


take me back to the start

by iwritetrash



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, School Reunion, nobody is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 20:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: “So…” Edward begins, carefully avoiding Alfred’s eye as discretely as possible. “It’s been a while,” he says, planting his feet so he’s not rocking back and forth and smiling somewhat sheepishly.Alfred can’t help but smile back, shaking his head to avoid the way Edward’s gaze has settled on his face. “Ten years.”Edward nods, smile dropping a little as he glances down at the ground, his toe kicking absently at the parquet flooring that invokes memories of assemblies that seemed to last for hours. Edward looks back up and for a moment Alfred thinks he might apologise, but instead he summons up that smile again. “You, uh, you look good.”Alfred can feel his heart hammering in his chest as he replies “yeah, you too."~idk man it's a school reunion fic





	1. take my breath away

**Author's Note:**

> yep, here i am with another project, although i know for a fact that i'm going to finish this one, because i've already drafted the whole thing.
> 
> that being said, im still going to post it chapter by chapter. each chapter is going to flip between the past and present bc im an extra bitch who wanted to run two stories simultaneously - i've signalled roughly when the bits set in the past take place but i thought i'd mention it here just in case it's not clear.
> 
> also, im actually going chapter titles! each of them is gonna be from a song i listened to while i was writing - this one was take my breath away (as you can probably tell), specifically [this cover](https://open.spotify.com/track/36vROPdYhE7MiUJjZ04kPU?si=p_1_sLL7TeiVAtg8V5iZKQ) by EZI (not the one from top gun)
> 
> one last thing: this fic will be addressing abusive parenting, not directly portrayed but discussed between characters, which i know is a sensitive topic. im absolutely happy to signal points where this is going to be mentioned if anyone would like me to. there will also be discussions of homophobia and use of some homphobic slurs which, again, im happy to signal. if you'd rather not say anything in the comments you can message me on tumblr @because-seconds-not-the-same
> 
> and now... on with the fic!

Alfred hates school reunions. 

He doesn’t really get the point of it all, dragging everyone back together to the crappy school that probably gave most of its students anxiety, depression, or both, and reminding them of all the cringey school bullshit they’d rather forget while they’re forced to listen to how everyone around them is incredibly successful, and married, with two beautiful kids and another three on the way. 

Well, maybe that’s just him. Maybe he’s just a little resentful that he never made it out, not that many people from their small Welsh town ever really do. It’s the kind of town where people rarely leave and the same families stick around running the same local businesses, each child taking the place of their parents in time. Alfred always said he wouldn’t be another one of those kids living just a street away from his parents, still letting his mum do his laundry once a week, and cook him roast dinner every Sunday.

Most of his other siblings made it out, one way or another. Emily went to Oxford and settled there with her now-husband to complete her PhD, Clarence enlisted in the Navy, Mary married her boyfriend from school and moved to London with him so he could pursue some career in the financial sector, and even his baby sister Adelaide escaped by disappearing off to university in the US. She still hasn’t come back home since she left, and everyone tries to avoid talking about the toll it takes on their parents that they haven’t seen her in years.

The only one who stuck around with him is George, and even he’s been talking about following Clarence’s example and enlisting in the army just to get away from this crappy town.

Still, most people stick around after school. Even the ones that go further afield for university often end up making their way back home, which only serves to make this reunion feel even more pointless. Most of them have been living a couple of streets away from each other for the past 10 years, and if they wanted to catch up with each other then they could have.

In fact, the only reason he’s at this stupid reunion is because Harriet and Mina organised the whole thing and he promised he’d go for their sake.

And maybe, just maybe, there’s an itch in the back of his head that he can’t quite scratch, wondering about a certain someone who did make it out all those years ago, someone who’s been on his mind since he drove out of town ten years ago and never came back, someone who has a frustratingly limited social media presence which makes him impossible to keep up with without actively asking. And Alfred refuses to actively ask. 

“Has your mystery man showed up yet?” Mina sets a drink – he assumes it’s vodka and coke – down in front of him on the table he’s sat at in the corner of the room, hiding from prying ex-classmates trying to make small talk. 

Alfred takes the drink with a grateful smile and takes a sip, tasting the slight burn of the vodka, just enough to make him wince slightly. “This is strong,” he says, ignoring her question and taking another sip.

“What, you think after 17 years I don’t know how you like your drinks?” Mina shakes her head and takes the seat next to him. “I take it from your moping in the corner that he hasn’t showed?”

Alfred purses his lips and then shrugs nonchalantly.

“Oh my god, Alfred, are you really still gonna hold out on me?”

“I’m not outing him just because you’re being nosy,” Alfred rolls his eyes as she prods him in the side by way of response. “How would you like it if a girl you hooked up with in school told everyone that you were bi before you were ready?”

“In case you forgot, someone has been merrily spreading the news around this reunion. God, you are so lucky you were out in school so you’re not some crazy novelty now,” Mina mutters. 

“Trust me, it sucked being out at school too.” Alfred knocks their shoulders together with a small smile.

Mina laughs and shakes her head, before turning back to Alfred with a more serious expression. “He’s one of the ones who left, isn’t he? I promise I’m not going to keep digging to find out who he is, but he left, didn’t he?”

Alfred purses his lips. “Sped right out of town and never came back. Didn’t even get a goodbye.”

Almost without warning, he feels like he’s been transported back there, living through the first week of summer again. Flashes of swimming pools and tanned skin and drinking wine straight from the bottle flit past his mind’s eye until he’s reeling from the nostalgia of it all. He shakes his head to bring himself back to the present moment.

Mina puts on a smile, though her eyes look sad, and pats his shoulder. “Try not to mope around all night, Al. He might still show up.”

Alfred snorts, but pastes on a grateful smile for her sake. “I’ll give it a go. I spotted Victoria over there, touting her wonderfully shiny ring and big pregnant belly. Baby number 4, is it?”

“Number 5, actually. And an impressive start-up business, too. She’s been busy.” Mina winks, standing up and brushing down her skirt quickly. “You should go and talk to her. I know she’d love to hear from you,” Mina says, and then she’s disappearing back into the crowd, presumably to do some more socialising.

Alfred sighs, resigning himself to the fact that Mina is probably right, as always, and he should quit moping and actually talk to some of these people, especially the ones he hasn’t seen since school ended, not that any of them were ever nice to him at school. He gets to his feet, straightening his shirt and picking up his drink, mentally preparing himself to look at approximately 60 baby photos and coo at them as if he can tell the babies apart, while pretending he understands what Victoria’s start-up company actually does. 

Of course, he doesn’t actually get that far, because just as he’s about to go over to her, he spots Florence Kerr, arriving fashionably late and hovering a little awkwardly at the door. Maybe things have changed a little since sixth form, but his brain is still conditioned to expect to see Edward nearby whenever he sees Florence. They even dated for a while in Year 11, though, from his extensive Instagram stalking, Alfred has gathered that she’s a lesbian. Maybe that made her the perfect beard in those early days.

True to form, none other than Edward Drummond walks through the door, no less than 30 seconds after her, wearing a well-tailored navy suit, though he seems to have skipped the tie and settled for leaving the top few buttons undone. He finds Florence, still hovering by the door, and touches her elbow, saying something to her before turning and heading over to the bar. 

It feels like the whole room has stopped to take in the sudden reappearance of the man everyone thought they’d never see again. But maybe Alfred is just being melodramatic, and maybe he just wants to believe that he’s not the only person who has been so thoroughly unmoored by Edward’s arrival.

Alfred’s eyes are still fixed on his back when Edward picks up two drinks from the bar and turns, presumably to make his way back to Florence. He stops short, and seems to just barely manage to hold onto the drinks as he makes eye-contact with Alfred from across the room. For a moment, Alfred considers bolting, but then Edward holds up a hand, still holding a drink, raises one finger, and mouths ‘one minute’, and suddenly Alfred feels like his feet are rooted to the ground. 

So he waits there, stock still, like an idiot, and tries not to make it obvious that he’s watching Edward go back to Florence and hand her a drink, chatting to her and nodding in Alfred’s direction so that she turns to look at him, and now he _really_ looks stupid because he hasn’t even got his phone out or anything, he’s just _stood there_. She gives Edward this sympathetic smile and Alfred wonders how well she knows the situation; he supposes there was nothing stopping Edward from telling her everything, given that Alfred was already out, so her reaction is probably warranted.

Alfred realises all of a sudden that he’s been so lost in thought that he hadn’t even noticed Edward walking towards him, and now he’s stood some 3 feet away, hovering a little awkwardly, hands stuffed into his pockets as he rocks back and forwards on his heels a little. 

“So…” Edward begins, carefully avoiding Alfred’s eye as discretely as possible. “It’s been a while,” he says, planting his feet so he’s not rocking back and forth and smiling somewhat sheepishly. 

Alfred can’t help but smile back, shaking his head to avoid the way Edward’s gaze has settled on his face. “Ten years.”

Edward nods, smile dropping a little as he glances down at the ground, his toe kicking absently at the parquet flooring that invokes memories of assemblies that seemed to last for hours. Edward looks back up and for a moment Alfred thinks he might apologise, but instead he summons up that smile again. “You, uh, you look good.”

Alfred can feel his heart hammering in his chest as he replies “yeah, you too,” and it’s the _truth_ , because Edward has clearly been hitting the gym more often, and he’s let his curls grow out the way Alfred always said he should, and there’s a slight scruff of evening stubble on his chin that wasn’t there before, and that’s _precisely_ the problem.

Because all of a sudden it’s ten years ago, and Edward is picking him up to drive him to their year 13 prom, _as friends_ , of course, and Alfred is answering the door and Edward is looking him up and down as saying ‘you look good’ so casually, as if those words haven’t just made Alfred’s world fall off its axis, and Alfred wonders if Edward can feel it too. The way nothing seems to have changed in ten years, even though _everything_ has.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I have to go,” Alfred is whispering before he can even stop to think, putting his drink down and hurrying past Edward before he has time to react.

He find’s Mina chatting to Harriet and touches her shoulder gently to get her attention. “I can’t do this, Mina. I’ve gotta go, can you find another ride home? I’ll pay you back for a taxi or something, ‘kay?”

“Alfred, what-?” Mina splutters, glancing around the room quickly as though she’s looking for some kind of threat. If she notices Edward still stood where Alfred left him, eyes fixed on the two of them, then she decides not to mention it. 

“I need to go, I’m sorry.” Alfred squeezes her shoulder, before hurrying out of the room as quickly as he can without drawing too much attention to himself. The last thing he needs is people gossiping about why he left so early.

 

* * *

 

 

**SPRING 2007**

Alfred has noticed Edward Drummond around school a few times; he’s a prefect, his uniform is always immaculate, he uses just a touch too much gel in his hair, and he consistently earns A* grades across the board. He’s also an athlete who has the best long-distance track and cross country times the school has seen in years, and yet his artwork is also to _die_ for. Alfred isn’t sure there’s anything this boy _can’t_ do

Okay, so maybe Alfred’s done more than just notice him, and if Alfred spends the classes they have together staring at the back of Edward’s head then who’s to blame him.

Still, he’s always admired from afar and keep his daydreaming _strictly_ to himself, because god knows he gets enough shit for being gay already. 

Unfortunately, his plans of silently lusting after Edward from a distance are utterly foiled when his French teacher pairs the two of them up for what she assures them is a _very_ important project. Translation: it doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things, and with GCSEs looming, everything that doesn’t directly contribute to their grades pales in comparison, but she really wants everyone to actually put effort into them.

“Hey!” Edward bumps his shoulder against Alfred’s on the way out of the classroom, grinning at him. “Looks like we’re partners.”

Alfred looks straight ahead like he can hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “Uh, yeah, looks like it.”

“Are you free at lunch? We could meet and discuss it then?”

Alfred bites back a laugh. He’s always free at lunch. Mina is basically his only friend now that everyone treats him like a social pariah, and she has like 60 different extra-curriculars, which means he spends every lunch time in the library on his own reading and getting ahead on school work.

“Yeah, uh, meet you in the library? I’ll grab us a table.” 

“Sounds good!” Edward grins, and _god_ , Alfred hadn’t anticipated him being so chirpy, and so _happy_ to work with him. Anyone else would be keeping their distance so as not to be associated with him, and yet here Edward is, bumping shoulders with him like it’s nothing. “I’ve got maths now, I’ll see you later though!” he practically beams at Alfred, before ducking into the classroom they’re walking past and leaving Alfred feeling like he’s just been bulldozed by a large truck in the middle of the school hallway. 

And now he has to work with his school’s resident golden boy on a project. He’s only glad it’s in French, and not some kind of science project. At least he’s good at French and he won’t totally make a fool of himself by forgetting who Isaac Newton is, or the differences between plant and animal cells, both of which he has done before.

As it turns out, however, Edward is absolutely _terrible_ at French, as Alfred finds out the moment he arrives to start working on the project. 

“How have you gotten this far into GCSE French without anyone finding out you can’t conjugate verbs,” Alfred teases, and, okay, maybe he’s flirting a little, but Edward doesn’t seem to be picking up on it as he blushes furiously in the seat opposite him.

“I’m fine when I’m writing and I have time to go back and check it,” he huffs.

Alfred bites his lip to hold back a laugh. “You mean with google translate?”

Edward purses his lips and looks around somewhat guiltily. “No,” he says, in what might well be the most unconvincing way ever.

“Right, okay, well I _can_ conjugate verbs, so why don’t I take the lead on this one?” Alfred smiles, grabbing his pen and beginning to jot down a few notes. “So I was thinking we could talk about bread." 

“Bread?” Edward chuckles. “We’re supposed to be talking about a culture topic.”

“Bread _is_ French culture, Edward. We can tie it back to the French Revolution and everything. Plus we could bring in food for the class and then everyone ends up happy.” Alfred grins.  
  
Edward shakes his head. “You’re crazy, Alfred. But,” he concedes, “I do see your point. Bread it is.” 

“Excellent,” Alfred replies, trying to hide the way his heart has started hammering in his chest from the way Edward had turned the full force of his smile on him. He launches quickly into a breakdown of the points they should cover, and starts working on an outline of what they want to talk about, while Edward watches, somewhat in awe, as Alfred starts to babble about incorporating grammar points and high level tenses to earn them bonus points with their teacher.

The lunch time passes by in a blur, but by the end of it they have a decent outline for their project, and it’s probably the most fun Alfred has had at lunch in at least a year.

“I can tutor you, if you want?” Alfred suggests as he’s packing up his things. He’s not quite sure what compels him to suggest it, and he immediately braces himself for rejection.

Edward cracks a smile, but shakes his head. “I appreciate the thought, but I can’t afford a tutor.” 

Alfred has to resist the urge to burst out laughing. “I’m not going to _charge_ you. Seriously, I don’t mind giving you a hand for free.”

“You’d do that?” Edward frowns like he’s trying to make sense of an enigma, instead of an honest attempt at a good deed. 

Alfred finds himself having to avoid Edward’s gaze, turning his attention back to the notes he’s jotted down for their project. “Yeah, man, I mean they say the best practice is teaching someone else, so really you’d be doing me a favour.”

He risks looking up and finds Edward’s expression has only grown more cryptic and unreadable. 

“Thank you,” he says, and he sounds sincere that Alfred doesn’t know what to make of it.

“No worries,” he says. “I don’t know what evenings you’re free, but you could come back to mine sometime this week and we can finish up, and I can give you a hand?”

“Do Wednesdays work for you?”

“Yeah, totally, I’ll meet you after school?” Alfred says, standing up and swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Sounds good,” Edward says, following suit. “Seriously, thanks for this, man. I really appreciate it.”

Alfred feels like he’s trapped under Edward’s stare, weighing him down with sincerity and feeling until he can’t breathe.

And then suddenly Edward is waving and saying “See you around,” and disappearing through the library doors and Alfred is left standing in his wake once again wondering what the hell just happened.

 

* * *

 

Alfred pauses halfway down the deserted hallway, running a hand through his hair and glancing back at the door to the hall, which is leaking light and soft music. It makes him feel like he’s 12 years old again and leaving the school disco early because Brian Adams shoved him around for ‘dressing like a fag’, or maybe it reminds him more of being 17 and bunking off assemblies with Edward to go and sneak a cigarette behind the canteen. Either way, he hates it. This was why he didn’t want to come to this stupid thing, didn’t want to ever set foot in this fucking school again.

Well, that, and Edward Drummond.

Edward Drummond who, as it turns out, has followed him out into the hallway, and is currently sauntering towards him.

“Nostalgia’s a bitch, huh?” Edward offers him a small smile.

“Look, in case you didn’t realise, I came out here to get a little space from all that nostalgic bullshit.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looked a lot like you were just trying to get away from me,” Edward replies, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“And what if I was?”

Edward looks down at the ground and kicks at it with his toe. “I’d say you were justified in that.”

Alfred cracks a small smile at that. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d left town for good.”

“So did I,” Edward says. “Figured you’d be long gone too, though. I mean, you were going to get your degree and then pull a Mamma Mia and disappear to Greece. What happened?”

Alfred chews on his lip. “Life happened, Edward.”

Edward huffs out a laugh. “I know the feeling.” 

It’s almost impossible to miss the way his eyes keep flickering down to Alfred’s lips, and the way he’s inching towards him each time they talk.

“If you get any closer I might start thinking you want to kiss me,” Alfred says, glancing up at Edward through his eyelashes.

“A lot’s changed since school.”

“That doesn’t sound like a denial.”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Edward says, stepping closer in spite of himself. “We have to make the smart choices.”

Alfred swallows thickly. “And who gets to decide which choices are smart?” He takes a step closer, and looks up at Edward, cocking an eyebrow and daring him to make the next move.

For a moment he thinks maybe he’s read the situation wrong, but, just as he’s about to step back, Edward crashes their lips together, and Alfred’s mind goes completely blank as he takes in the feeling of Edward’s lips sliding against his own.

He tilts his head to the side so that their lips slant together just-so, his hands snaking up Edward’s back until one of them is able to tangle in the curls that Edward so graciously grew out, while his other hand presses against the small of his back so that their hips knock together. Edward has one hand on Alfred’s hip, and the other firm on the back of his neck as his tongue slides between Alfred’s lips.

Alfred notices somewhat absent-mindedly that Edward has gotten better at this, but he dismisses that thought as soon as it surfaces. He wants to keep this perfect moment unsullied for as long as possible.

Edward pulls back for a moment and rests their foreheads together, their eyes still closed as they pant slightly, leaning into each other. Alfred strokes his hand through Edward’s hair, before pulling him in again to kiss him again. He can’t get enough of the taste of Edward’s lips, the familiarity of it all, like he’s coming home.

In fact, he doesn’t think he ever wants to leave this precise moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, there we go! there's the first chapter!
> 
> just a quick note to say this will be 7 chapters long, in case you were feeling too optimistic after that ending...
> 
> (also this fic was born out of binge watching roswell new mexico and listening to too much conan gray so... if you wanted any indication of where this might be going...)
> 
> drop me a comment to let me know what you thought of this! i thrive on feedback!
> 
> huge thanks to SheOfTheBookAndSong for listening to me ramble on and on and on about this fic, she's the real hero behind all this!


	2. words hung above (but never would form)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> people talk; last night; bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are with chapter 2!
> 
> i literally cannot stress enough how much time i spent on this instead of the two essays i just submitted (both of which were worth 90% of my grade for their respective modules so... that's just peachy). wish me luck guys.
> 
> the song for this chapter is [shrike](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ieUtb4ecQgEYxae8dzEUi?si=iEOR53CdQ_6y_KJWgOTVpg) by hozier bc man his album is a vibe and i definitely spent several hours with it playing on loop while i was writing this. also this particular song in general is an edward vibe.
> 
> also, as per my note on the previous chapter, there is discussion of abuse and homophobic slurs in this chapter, particularly in the final section. 
> 
> anyway, on with the fic! enjoy!

**LATE SPRING 2007**

Since Alfred started tutoring Edward, they’ve been meeting in the library pretty much every lunchtime that Edward doesn’t have either training, or art, or prefect duty. They usually spend the first half an hour or so talking about French as Alfred desperately tries to coach Edward in the art of conjugation, and then the next half an hour talking about any and everything else, like they’re actually becoming _friends_ and not acquaintances who worked together on a project that one time.

They’ve started hanging out outside of school as well, studying together at the weekend and having movie nights, and swiping a bit of his parents’ alcohol. Edward has started sitting next to Alfred in the classes they have together, to the disgruntlement of the people he’s displaced after half a year of everyone adopting an informal seating plan. Not that any of them ever spoke to Alfred anyway.

Alfred is even befriending Edward’s girlfriend, Florence. Their relationship confuses him, though. Edward walks to and from school with her, gives her a chaste kiss at the gates, and then doesn’t seem to see her again until the end of the day when they walk back, especially since Edward started spending his lunch times with Alfred. In fact, Edward hardly even talks about her, at least around Alfred.

There is one fly in the ointment, however.

Edward may be blind to the rumours going around about him, but Alfred certainly isn’t. He sees the looks people send their way when they spot the two of them sitting together in the library, and he hears the things Edwards so-called friends whisper when his back is turned.

Maybe Edward really just doesn’t care, or maybe he’s too oblivious to notice, but, either way, Alfred thinks it’s only fair that he takes it upon himself to warn Edward of the risks.

“You should be more careful, you know,” Alfred says one lunchtime, when they’ve long since set aside their French textbooks, “hanging out with me so much?”

Edward rolls his eyes and puts down his sandwich. “And why’s that?”

“People talk, Edward. If we keep spending so much time together people are gonna start saying we’re dating.”

Edward bites back a laugh. “Gay by association, is that what you’re saying?”

Alfred shrugs by way of response. He’s honestly surprised by how chill Edward seems about this whole thing.

“Alfred, I don’t really like my friends that much. They’re small-minded assholes who have nothing better to do with their lives than bully perfectly decent people like you,” he says, leaning forwards a little.

“Hello, Mr Prefect, do you want to tone it down with the swearing?” Alfred teases to cover up the way Edward’s words have made his heart swell with pride. 

Edward roll his eyes again and kicks Alfred’s shin under the table. “Frankly, you’re the only person at this school who doesn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out.” 

Alfred can’t help the huge smile that creeps across his face unbidden. “What would your girlfriend think of that?”

“Who, Florence?” Edward asks, and there it is again. It’s like he’d forgotten she even existed temporarily. “Oh, uh, well I guess she’s exempt. Anyway, look, if I have to give up being friends with those assholes to spend time with you then I wouldn’t even call it a sacrifice. I’ll take gay by association over those dickheads any day,” Edward knocks their knees together under the table with a small smile and Alfred has to force himself to remember how to breathe normally. Honestly, he thinks that might be one of the nicest things anybody has ever said to him

“Okay then,” he nods, smiling and still somewhat embarrassingly breathless. “We still on for watching a movie at mine tonight?”

“When have I ever let you down?” Edward replies, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. 

Alfred smiles and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “Meet you by the gates after school?”

“Of course,” Edward smiles, and it’s so fucking dazzling that Alfred has to take a moment to check he isn’t having a heart attack. But no. It’s just the Edward Effect.

 

* * *

 

Alfred isn’t really expecting to bump into Edward the next day, or any day for that matter. He sort of just assumed that Edward had stopped by for the reunion and left immediately after to go back to wherever it is he’s living now. In fact, the only possible reason Alfred can think of for Edward to stick around any longer is to see Florence, but from the way he’d disappeared after they kissed to get back to her, he’d just assumed that he wasn’t staying long.

Evidently he was wrong.

He’s walking to his favourite café a few minutes away from his flat when he bumps into Edward in the street and almost has to do a double take.

“Hey,” he says, stopping and smiling at Edward, who looks a lot like he’d like to disappear right now, which isn’t exactly a good sign. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“You think I’d leave town without saying goodbye?” Edward attempts a joke but it falls flat.

“Well,” Alfred says, hesitating for a moment before speaking, “you did last time.”

The words hang in the air for a few moments, laden with a multitude of meanings, all of which Edward seems to be trying to make sense of at once while he stares at Alfred with a face full of apologies.

“How long are you in town?” Alfred breaks the heavy silence.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure. For as long as Florence’s parents will let me sleep on their sofa, I guess,” he says, and Alfred feels his heart skip slightly at the thought that something must be keeping him grounded.

“Thought you hated this place. Isn’t that why you left?” 

“I don’t hate all of it.”

Edward is watching him with these eyes like he’s begging Alfred to read between the lines he’s so carefully sticking to, like he needs Alfred to infer, but, frankly, Alfred is so _fucking tired_ of inferring and guessing. Just once, he thinks, he would like a boy to look him in the eye and tell him exactly how he feels, without all these games and word tricks.

“Careful, Edward. You might make me believe you care.”

Edward’s face contorts briefly like he’s in pain. “Of course I care.”

“You’ve got one hell of a way of showing it,” Alfred says, looking him dead in the eye, like he’s challenging him.

“Look, about last night-“

For a moment Alfred feels his heart skip in his chest in spite of himself, like maybe Edward is going to ask him out for a drink, or take him on a real date or something.

“It was… It was nice, but it, uh, it can’t happen again.” 

Alfred is fairly sure he feels his heart crack clean in two, but he works to keep his expression blank, neutral. Years of bullies and taunts and slurs have trained him well in the art of looking like he doesn’t give a fuck. “What happened last night? I hit the free bar pretty hard, you’ll have to fill me in.”

Edward sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.” 

Alfred shakes his head and pastes on a smile. “I’m just trying to get my morning coffee.”

Edward chews on his lip for a moment, before  fixing his eyes on a spot in the distance. “I’ll see you around, Alfred,” he says, before walking past him without looking back.

Alfred feels his heart settle in two clean halves heavy in his chest, shoulder tingling where Edward brushed past him, like a residue of his presence. He presses his eyes closed and a takes a deep breath to compose himself, before shaking his head, and rolling his shoulder like he can clear those remnants away, and walking forwards to set about his business.

He’s got more important things to do today than worry about Edward Drummond.

 

* * *

 

 

**SUMMER 2008**

“Where’d you get the bruise?” Alfred hops up next to Edward on the bonnet of his car in the school car park, reaching up with one hand to brush gently against the mark on Edward’s cheekbone. He’s used makeup to try and cover it, Florence’s, he presumes, but it’s still visible to the keen eye.

“Walked into a door,” Edward replies without looking up from the book he’s reading. _The Communist Manifesto_ , from the looks of things.

Alfred rolls his eyes and plucks the book out of Edward’s hands, making sure to slip the bookmark into place before tucking it behind him. Edward makes a noise of protestation, but stops when he sees the solemn look on Alfred’s face.

“You know you don’t need to lie to me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Edward sighs, leaning back on his hands and swinging his legs a little to kick at the bumper of the car.

“What did your dad flip out about this time?” Alfred glances over at Edward, who is studiously avoiding his eye.

“You, surprisingly enough. Told me he didn’t want me hanging out with ‘that faggot’ anymore.” Edward uses air-quotes, rolling his eyes and glancing at Alfred with an attempt at a cheeky smile. Alfred hates the way Edward tries to make it into a joke all the time.

“That’s original,” he mutters. He chews on his lip for a moment, before glancing over at Edward. “Do you want to stay at mine tonight?”

Edward shakes his head. “It’ll be worse if I don’t go back.”

Alfred frowns, watching Edward’s face carefully, even as Edward continues to avoid his eye. “Have you ever thought about _never_ going back?”

Edward snorts, continuing to kick absent-mindedly at the bumper. “And go where?”

“I don’t know, Edward, I mean… you could stay with me?” Alfred feels oddly nervous even suggesting it, and ends up mimicking Edward’s action, swinging his legs so the heels of his feet bump against the car, even as Edward stops, turning to face Alfred. “You know, even if it’s just temporary while you sort something else. My parents wouldn’t mind, and it would be somewhere _safe_ , you know?”

“Alfred…” He looks up from where he’s been staring at his own feet to find Edward frowning at him.

“Look, maybe it’s a dumb idea, but I just… I hate watching you go home to him, and if you wanted an out…” Alfred places his hand over Edward’s in what he intends to be a comforting gesture, but it immediately feels too intimate. He’s about to snatch his hand back and apologise when Edward flips his hand over under Alfred’s and twines their fingers together, squeezing gently.

“Thank you,” Edward smiles sadly, “but you know I can’t. My mum…”

“You can’t protect her forever, Edward. You have to start living your own life at some point.” Alfred interjects.

Edward offers him that sad smile again. “I know.”

“Yeah,” Alfred sighs, “I know you do.”

He wants to say something else, anything else, but before he can Edward is checking his watch and hopping off the car bonnet, stealing his book back from Alfred and stuffing it into his bag.

“I’ve got Bio, but you’re free second period, right?” 

Alfred nods mutely, twitching his hand slightly as though it’s reacclimatising to what it feels like when it’s not being held by Edward.

“Meet you outside the library?” Edward asks as Alfred hops off the car bonnet.

“We’ve had the same routine all year, Edward, I’m hardly going to forget.” Alfred bumps their shoulders together as he swings his bag over his shoulder and falls into step beside Edward as they make their way out of the swiftly emptying car park. “But yes, I’ll meet you outside the library.” He gives Edward a cheesy grin that makes him roll his eyes and tries to pretend he’s not still reeling from that moment of almost-intimacy between them, adding fuel to the fire that’s been building in his heart for months now whenever he’s around Edward.

He pauses to watch Edward saunter off in the direction of the science block and feels a faint blush rise in his cheeks. That is _so_ inconvenient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! let me know what you thought of this chapter - i thrive on feedback! 
> 
> all i can say is... it's gonna get worse.
> 
> next time: cuddling and crying.
> 
> thank you again <3<3<3


	3. call me friend (but keep me closer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apology; sleepover; afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here i am with a brand new chapter, getting ready to delve right into the angst, both past and present.
> 
> the song of the chapter is [when the party's over](https://open.spotify.com/track/14JzyD6FlBD5z0wV5P07YI?si=kMjWWNZxQBKmPR8sGxdH3A) by billie eilish, which heavily inspired the flashback scene in this chapter. i'd deffo recommend giving it a listen.
> 
> also im officially on holiday for the next month now, so let's see how much writing i can get done while i procrastinate revising for my exams..
> 
> just a quick warning for mentions of abuse in the middle section.
> 
> now, onwards with the chapter!

Alfred stares at the words on his computer screen, willing them to go into his head. He’s been trying to read through the first chapter of his PhD for two hours now and he still hasn’t gotten past the first page. Every time he thinks he might be able to focus, his mind takes him back to Edward’s lips on his the night before. The way the kiss still felt like coming home, even though Edward’s lips were more skilled, his arms were stronger, his was chin speckled with stubbled that brushed against Alfred’s… And the way Edward had shut him down that morning. 

He shakes his head, focusing his eyes back on the page. Deadlines were rapidly approaching and he _needed_ to pay attention to this _stupid_ chapter, and not the way Edward had looked at him this morning like he was begging Alfred to understand

Alfred sighs and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face and up through his hair, as if it might make him focus. He glances over at his open copy of _The Iliad_ , and traces his fingers over the faded pink cyclamen flower pressed between its pages, chewing on his lip.

Before he can lose himself in his reverie, he hears a knock on the door. He glances at the clock and realises that it’s already half 3.

Alfred gets up, assuming it’s probably Mina. She’d texted him that morning asking if she could drop by to talk about what happened last night. She even offered to stop at the café Alfred liked to frequent when he wasn’t holed up in his flat working and pick up coffee and a slice of the ginger cake Alfred swears he’d die for.

It’s safe to say he’s not expecting to see Edward loitering sheepishly outside his door, hands stuffed in the pockets of his _very_ nicely fitting jeans. 

“How did you get in?” Alfred blurts before Edward can speak. He gave Mina a key forever ago, but there is definitely a locked door between Edward and Alfred’s flat.

Edward’s sheepish smile only seems to get more sheepish as his cheeks flush. “I, uh, I was gonna buzz but then someone walked in and I just sort of followed them through,” he rocks back and forth on his heels a little before shaking his head. “That was really dumb, I, uh, I’ll just-“

He moves as if to leave, but Alfred catches at his elbow. “Look, you’re already here now,” he says.

Edward hesitates, before nodding and turning back to face Alfred. 

They stand in awkward silence for a few moments while Edward chews on his lip and rocks slightly from side to side, until Alfred eventually speaks up.

“Look, did you come here for a reason? Because I have a PhD that’s not going to write itself, and if you’re just going to tell me again that we shouldn’t kiss then I really don’t have time for it,” he says. Edward doesn’t need to know how distracted he’s been all day.

“You’re still doing your PhD?” Edward says, apparently without thinking. He shakes his head at himself. “I’m sorry, that sounded rude, it’s just that most people would’ve already finished by now, and I-“ Edward cuts himself off. “I need to stop talking.”

“Well, yeah.” Alfred purses his lips a little, before stepping aside and gesturing for Edward to come in. “My mum was diagnosed with cancer a few of years ago, just after I finished my masters, so I took a couple of years out to help look after her.” Alfred closes the door behind Edward and gestures vaguely at the sofa for Edward to sit down while he sits in the battered little armchair his parents gave him as a housewarming gift. “She’s okay now, but yeah, I’m a couple of years behind on the whole PhD train.”

“You never said,” Edward murmurs, still hovering in the middle of Alfred’s flat.

“You weren’t exactly around to tell.” Alfred watches Edward carefully as he kicks at the floor with the toe of his shoe. 

“I’m sorry,” Edward says without meeting Alfred’s eye. 

“For what?” 

Edward lets out a bark of laughter. “Everything. For not being there when you needed me. For disappearing last night. For this morning.”

“What about leaving?” Alfred challenges. The question feels so loaded, and he can’t help but feel tears stinging his eyes. “Are you sorry about that?”

“You know why I had to go, Alfred.” Edward is looking at him now, but he’s still continuing to avoid eye-contact.

“You could’ve said goodbye. You didn’t have to just speed out of town the moment school ended.” Alfred stands up, tired of feeling small compared to Edward, who is still hovering. “I mean, we had summer plans, Edward. We were gonna get out, go travelling, see the world. What, was that all just bullshit?”

“No,” Edward pleads, “I just-“ He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair like he’s searching for the words to say. Having come up blank, he crosses the room in three long step and crashes his lips to Alfred’s again. 

Alfred’s brain is telling him that he shouldn’t just accept this as an answer, that he needs Edward to explain himself properly, but his brain quiets down pretty quickly after Edward’s lips land on his, and, when he feels Edward’s hands slide up under his shirt, his brain shuts down altogether. 

“Bedroom,” he murmurs against Edward’s lips, walking them in the direction of the door, Edward’s fingers already tugging at the hem of his t-shirt while Alfred makes quick work of Edward’s jumper.

Edward is kissing down his neck when Alfred realises somewhat abruptly that Mina is likely on her way to his flat at that precise moment. He fumbles for his phone, which, luckily, is still in his back pocket, and unlocks it.

“Well that’s rude,” Edward murmurs, barely detaching his lips from the skin above Alfred’s collarbone.

It’s getting increasingly hard for Alfred to think straight as Edward licks and nips at his neck, and he’s _definitely_ better at this than he was in sixth form, and _dammit_ , Alfred’s trying to send a text. 

“Mina,” Alfred manages by way of response. “She was supposed to be coming over.” Edward grunts against his neck. “She has a _key_ ,” Alfred says, as he tries to type over Edward’s shoulder, since he seems have decided not to move.

_Getting laid_

_Sock on the door_

_Later_

That’s all Alfred manages to send Mina before Edward’s hand slips under his waistband and he decides that explanation will have to suffice, tossing his phone onto the bedside table and returning his full attention to Edward’s ministrations, fumbling for his belt and working on getting Edward out of those _gorgeous_ jeans. He’s walking Edward back towards the bed, locking their lips together as he does so, when Edward stumbles slightly on his own jeans, which are caught around his ankles, and topples back onto the bed, taking Alfred with him. 

They land with a gentle thud, and there’s a beat of silence as Alfred stares down at Edward beneath him, checking he’s not hurt, before Edward huffs out a gentle laugh and wraps his arms back around Alfred’s waist. He quickly kicks off his jeans, and then rolls Alfred over with significantly more strength than he’d had back in school so he’s pinned down against the bed.

“I’ve missed this body,” Edward murmurs as he kisses his way down Alfred’s chest, and usually Alfred would feel insecure, laid out and exposed as he is, but right now it feels more like he’s being worshipped, not judged. He tries not to think about Edward’s words too much. 

Alfred wants to say something back, compliment Edward, comment on the way his muscles have filled out or something, but the words stick in his throat. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment by getting all sentimental. They’ll have time later.

“Get up here and fuck me,” he says instead, hands roaming over Edward’s back, searching for purchase to pull him back up so their lips are level again.

“Gladly,” Edward half-growls, crawling up Alfred’s body crashing their lips back together.

 

* * *

 

**WINTER 2008**

Alfred has picked up Mary’s old job at the local corner shop since she finished school and disappeared off to university. It’s not the best paid job in their crap little town, but it’s also not the worst, and Mina’s aunt runs the shop so he can’t exactly complain too much. 

Besides, he gets to watch the ins and outs of his block from behind his till.

He knows which girls are on their periods, and which ones are having pregnancy scares. He knows which guys are planning to get laid, and which ones are a little optimistic when it comes to size. He knows which kids are planning to egg someone’s car, and whose it was that got egged. He knows what kind of wine his English teacher drinks, and what whiskey his Maths teacher buys at least once a week.

Most importantly, he knows the buying habits of Edward’s father.

He’s noticed a correlation, since he started working here, between the nights Charles Drummond rocks up at the corner shop and buys a case of beer and a bottle of vodka, and the new bruises on Edward’s face the next morning.

Alfred knows Edward wouldn’t like it if he interfered, because he thinks he should be able to deal with this on his own, but Alfred is sick and tired of watching his best friend get shoved around and treated like a human punching bag, so he settles into a routine.

Whenever Charles Drummond wanders into the shop and buys his usual stash of alcohol, Alfred will ring up his total, and then text Edward once he leaves with some excuse for an emergency sleepover. A Biology question he doesn’t understand, an urgent need to binge watch as much of Friends as possible, the ever ambiguous ‘boy troubles’. 

Edward always shows up, no matter how crap Alfred’s excuse is. He _always_ comes through.

Of course, the method isn’t fool-proof. Sometimes Charles comes in when Alfred isn’t working, and sometimes he doesn’t need to be drunk to beat his son, but it helps. There are less bruises on Edward’s skin, there’s more time between incidents, and maybe Alfred is imagining things, but Edward seems happier than before. Lighter.

So Alfred keeps it up, and he keeps it a secret.

They’ve all but given up on getting out an air mattress every time Edward stays over when Alfred has a perfectly functional double bed they can share. Alfred tries not to dwell too much on how nice it feels to have Edward sleeping so close, or the way, more often than not, he wakes up curled into Edward’s chest, with Edward’s arms wrapped loosely around his waist, or the fact that puberty has done Edward wonders and he’s starting to look far too sexy for his own good, especially when he’s just woken up and he hasn’t done anything with his hair yet and he’s not wearing a shirt, just grey sweats that fit him in _all_ the right places.

Okay, so maybe Alfred has spent some time thinking about all of this. But he’s got it all under control, honestly, he has. 

At least that’s what he tells himself. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what these ‘boy troubles’ are?” Edward asks one night. They’re curled up on Alfred’s bed with his laptop watching Mamma Mia and eating ice cream, because Alfred claimed he needed the curative powers of Colin Firth.

Alfred makes a point of mulling over the large spoonful of ice cream he’d just shovelled into his mouth while Edward watches him expectantly. For a moment Alfred wonders if Edward might be trying to catch him in a lie, but his expression is far too sincere for that.

“I don’t know, man, I mean I don’t want to make things weird,” Alfred says, hoping that’s suitably ambiguous.

“Do I know him?” Edward asks, and Alfred tries not to read too much into the unreadable expression that flickers across his face for a moment. 

“Uh, yeah, you could say that.” 

“So, tell me without using his name?” Edward suggests. “I mean, if you want to. I just… I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on, you know? But if you don’t want to say then that’s totally cool.” Edward loops back on himself, and Alfred can see him digging himself into a hole so he puts a hand on Edward’s arm. 

“Chill, I’ll tell you,” he says, squeezing gently. He chews on his lip while he tries to figure out where to begin, before pausing the movie and leaning back against the headboard. “So I’ve liked him for a while now,” he avoids Edward’s eye, “and he’s so sweet, and gorgeous, but I don’t think he’s into me.” 

“Is he gay?” 

Alfred nods. “I was one of the first people he came out to.”

“I mean, that’s got to mean something. You know, that’s a pretty big deal, he must trust you at the very least, and clearly he cares about you a lot. I mean, like, I chose you to come out to first, you know?” Edward chatters, and Alfred feels a small smile flit across his lips. He wonders if Edward has any idea.

“Yeah, well, he’s giving me pretty mixed signals. Sometimes I feel like we’re, like, _this close_ , and then other times he totally bro-zones me.” Alfred shrugs, glancing over at Edward and watching carefully for his response.

“Maybe he’s scared, you know. Being out at our school isn’t easy, I mean you’re living proof. Like, I’m not out of the closet to anyone except you, maybe it’s the same for him.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe you just need to talk to him. Just… put yourself out there, or something.” Alfred spots that same unreadable expression crossing Edward’s face just fleetingly before it disappears again.

“I don’t know, don’t you think it would be weird? I mean, he’s a good friend, you know.” Alfred wonders if Edward might finally clock it now, because Alfred doesn’t really have many guy friends, and if he did surely Edward would know about them, but if Edward realises anything then he doesn’t show it. 

“Yeah, I mean, if someone had a crush on me I’d want to know. Wouldn’t you?” It feels like it’s Edward’s turn to watch Alfred intensely for a reaction, try as he might to play it off as nonchalant.

“Yeah, I guess I would.” Alfred cracks a small smile, before looking away, feeling a little overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment between them. Before Edward can say anything else that might make the knot in his stomach even worse, he leans forward and presses the spacebar on his laptop so the movie carries on playing.

They sit in a comfortable silence until the credits start to roll, at which point Alfred is forced to acknowledge the inevitable.

He checks his watch. It’s close to 1 in the morning.

“It’s late,” he says. “Do you wanna stay over?” Edward’s dad is likely still raging drunk around his home, and Alfred would really rather Edward didn’t go back.

“I don’t know, I mean, it’s a school night.” Edward muffles a yawn with his hand

“That’s never stopped you before. Besides, I’ll drive you in tomorrow, we can pick up Flo and Mina on the way. You can borrow some of my clothes or something.” Alfred puts a hand on Edward’s shoulder.

“I brought a change of clothes, just in case. After I almost popped a button last time I borrowed one of your shirts I figured I should take precautions.” Edward grins and Alfred rolls his eyes.

“Of course you did.” He bumps their shoulders together, before hopping off the bed and moving his laptop to his desk. “Do you need pyjamas, or did you bring those too?”

He glances back to see Edward brandishing his trademark grey sweats and makes a show of rolling his eyes again to distract from the slight blush colouring his cheeks. 

They get changed in silence, and then take it in turns to use the bathroom. Alfred has to take a moment in front of the mirror to steel himself for the night ahead of him, like always, before heading back to his own bedroom.

Edward is already in bed when he gets back, sat on his side (Alfred doesn’t remember when he started thinking of it as Edward’s side, but now he doesn’t even sleep on that side when he’s alone) with a book in hand, tucked under the covers up to his waist. He’s decided to forgo a shirt again, apparently, and Alfred wonders vaguely if Edward thinks it’s weird that he sleeps in a t-shirt and boxers. 

“Are you cool if I turn the light off?” Alfred says, as if he can excuse his hovering and staring because he’s near a light switch.

Edward looks up from his book and slides the bookmark into place, setting it down on the bedside table. “Yeah, of course.”

Alfred nods and turns the light, plunging them into darkness. He immediately remembers why he usually uses the switch by his bed and not the one on the opposite side of the room as he dashes in the direction of the bed. It’s not that he’s afraid of the dark, it’s just that he doesn’t like to be stood, vulnerable, in the middle of a dark room. He hears Edward chuckle, and then the bedside lamp comes on with a click, exposing Alfred, poised to leap into the bed, lest a hand reach out from underneath and grab his ankles.

Alfred pauses in his tracks, and then straightens up, climbing into bed in a more normal fashion, and immediately burrowing under the covers. Edward follows suit, lying down so he and Alfred are facing each other, faces cast in sharp angles in the soft lamp-light. 

A few beats of silence pass between them, as Edward shuffles a little closer and drapes his arm over Alfred’s waist. Alfred wonders if he knows how much Alfred’s heart is pounding at the sheer proximity.

“Thank you,” Edward whispers.

“For what?” Alfred feels breathless. Is that normal?

Edward’s lips curve up in a small smile. “I know you’ve worked out my dad’s routine, somehow, and I know you’ve been trying to protect me in your own special way,” his thumb is rubbing circles into Alfred’s side, and Alfred wishes Edward knew just how distracting that was when he’s trying to have a sincere conversation.

“I didn’t think you’d stay away if you knew.” 

“I probably wouldn’t have,” Edward replies. “But he seems to have been taking it out on the furniture and not my mum when I’m not around, so.” Edward lets the words hang in the air for a few moments, swallowing thickly. “So, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Alfred says, shuffling a little closer so their knees knock together and wrapping his own arm around Edward’s waist. “I mean it.”

“I know you do,” Edward whispers, leaning forward just a little so that his nose is buried in Alfred’s hair. 

This isn’t how friends are supposed to sleep, Alfred knows that. Friends would sleep in separate beds, or at least stick to a side each and battle it out over the duvet that isn’t quite big enough to stretch across the gap. Friends don’t cuddle like this, or twine their legs together, or lie so close that they can feel each other’s heartbeats.

After a minute or so, though Alfred is certain it could have been hours, Edward disentangles himself and rolls away, and Alfred thinks perhaps he’s finally come to that realisation, perhaps he’s decided that he should go back to his side and pretend it never happened, but then the bedside lamp turns off with a click, and Edward is rolling back over to face him, and shuffling in close, and wrapping Alfred up in his arms as though they always do this. It’s one thing to wake up in Edward’s arms, having reached for each other while asleep, but it’s another thing entirely to fall asleep in them.

 

* * *

 

Alfred blinks his eyes open as the sun is beginning to set, flooding the room with soft, orange light and dark shadows that look like they’ve been painted onto the walls. He’s surprised for a moment when he feels the weight of an arm around his waist, and the feeling of fingers stroking from his knee right up to his neck, until he remembers Edward showing up at his flat earlier in the day.

A contented smile spreads across his face as he rolls over to lie on his side facing Edward, propping himself up on his elbow.

“You’re still here,” He whispers, tracing a hand lightly over Edward’s chest.

Edward looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, bringing a hand up to gently cup the back of Alfred’s neck. “No more disappearing,” he says.

Alfred strokes his hand along the length of Edward’s body, like he’s trying to memorise the soft expanse of skin in front of him. Edward’s hand slips from Alfred’s neck to his jawline, as his thumb floats across his cheekbone, and down across his lips, which part just slightly under his touch. Alfred leans in and presses a few gentle kisses onto Edward’s collarbone, up his neck, across his jaw, the corner of his lips and then-

His phone starts ringing on the bedside table. 

He rolls away to check it and curses under his breath, glancing at Edward apologetically. “It’s Mina, I should-“

“Yeah, no worries,” Edward smiles, and _god_ , he looks practically angelic, curls splayed out on the pillow, covers tucked around his waist.

Alfred chews on his lip for a moment and answers the phone. He doesn’t even get out a greeting before she starts ranting at him.

“Fucking _hell_ , Alfred, either your new fuckbuddy has some incredible stamina, or you just slept all afternoon. I _cannot_ _believe_ you blew me off to get  _laid_ , and after I bought you cake too. I hope you know I gave your piece to Florence and she really liked it.”

“Florence, huh?” Alfred teases gently, and from the way she splutters he assumes she’s probably blushing. 

“That is _besides_ the _point_. I am coming over _right now_ , and you’d better have a _bloody good explanation_.” 

“I will explain everything in full when you get here, _and_ I will reimburse you for the cake.” Alfred rolls his eyes playfully at Edward, and is somewhat surprised when Edward doesn’t reciprocate in turn. “Text me when you get here, ‘kay?”

“Oh my _god_ , he’s still there, isn’t he?”

“Goodbye, Mina.”

“Is he in the _room_?”

“ _Goodbye_ ,” Alfred says, before promptly hanging up on her. “Hey, you okay?” he asks Edward, who has now taken to downright frowning.

“Have you told her?”

It takes Alfred a moment to process what Edward means, but when it hits him he tosses his phone onto the bed with a huff and stands up, pulling on a pair of boxers that he’s pretty sure are his. “Jesus, Edward, things never really change, do they? You know, I figured after 10 years maybe you’d be okay with it all now, but no, here we are again, in the exact same spot we were before.”

Edward stares at him, having propped himself up on his elbows, like he’s surprised the mood could turn sour so quickly, while Alfred studiously avoids his eye as he fumbles around for his jeans, yanking them on.

“For the record, I never told her. I told her there was a guy, but I never let on enough for her to guess that it was you, because I respected that you weren’t ready. Frankly, I’m surprised you think so little of me.” Alfred dares to shoot Edward a glare and regrets it immediately when he sees those soft, puppy-dog eyes looking back at him. “But would it really be so bad if I had told her?” 

“Yes!” Edward replies, his voice laced with indignation.

Alfred presses his eyes closed and turns his back on Edward as he pulls on his t-shirt. He’s afraid if he looks back over at Edward he’ll cave. “You know maybe it was a good thing you skipped town. I need to find a guy who’s not scared to be seen with me,” Alfred says, half-glancing over his shoulder.

Edward makes no attempt to reply, but Alfred can feel the shock radiating off him in waves that seem to ripple out to fill the whole room.

“I think you should leave. Mina’s gonna be here soon. Wouldn’t want her to catch you sneaking out,” Alfred says before walking out into the bathroom. He can feel Edward’s eyes on his back as right up until the door closes behind him. 

He turns on the shower and then slumps down on the toilet seat and buries his head in his hand, a few silent tears slipping down his cheeks. He attempts to muffle the sobs threatening to shake his entire body with the back of his hand, in case Edward hears over the noise of the shower. After a few moments, he hears the tell-tale noises of Edward picking up his clothes from the floor and getting dressed, stumbling around the room trying to find his belt or his left shoe or whatever.

Edward knocks gently on the door, once, twice, and then three times before he seems to resign himself to the fact that Alfred doesn’t plan on speaking to him anytime soon. Eventually, Alfred footsteps leaving the bedroom, and then the noise of the front door opening and closing.

Once he knows Edward is definitely gone, Alfred lets out the sob he’s been holding in, burying his face in his hands and crying until his whole body is shaking with it. He’s still there when Mina arrives some 5 minutes later and hears him crying over the noise of the shower. She pushes the door open without knocking and practically flies to his side, pulling him into a tight hug immediately and asking what the hell happened.

“I thought things would be different this time,” he says into her shoulder between hiccups and sobs. “I thought this time he wouldn’t want to hide, but…” Alfred swallows his words.

“So your mystery man has reappeared to break your heart again?” Mina sounds deeply unimpressed. “I hope he’s not planning on making a habit of this, or I really will have to track him down.” 

Alfred manages a watery laugh as he takes the tissue she offers and wipes his eyes quickly. 

“What if it’s just me?” he whispers, not quite daring to meet Mina’s eye. “What if he’s just ashamed of _me_?” 

Mina squeezes his hand until he looks up at her. “Then he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you anyway.” 

Alfred laughs and tamps down the thought that perhaps it is _him_ that doesn’t deserve _Edward_.

“So tell me about Florence,” he changes tack swiftly, and watches her face flush as she splutters wordlessly. “Are you two still crushing on each other as badly as you were in sixth form?" 

Mina frowns at him, obviously still concerned, but obliges his questioning nonetheless.

Alfred can’t help but wonder, though, as he listens to Mina talk about Florence, if that’s what he and Edward could have been, in another universe, or another life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ghhhhh don't hate me please.
> 
> thank you so much for reading, drop me a comment to let me know what you thought of this - i live for feedback <3
> 
> next time: prom and a party
> 
> thank you again <3<3<3


	4. cause im ready to love you (or im ready to lose you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prom, party, prom pt ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> righto, here we go!
> 
> this chapter is mostly prom tbh, i wanted to make a big deal of it, shit is about to go DOWN but like... in a good way. mostly... hmmm
> 
> the song of the chapter is [im so tired](https://open.spotify.com/track/6bnT4Xhs1lkOHgFjHq6M3b?si=AaOPMDZARf6wdZmvnIq4Lw), specifically the stripped version, by troye sivan and lauv which is just... i mean it's one hell of a vibe, isn't it?
> 
> also. flower meanings appear. im just gonna stick them right here bc i didn't spend an hour finding the perfect flowers for it to go unnoticed.
> 
> pink cyclamen is your true love flower, however it can be also used to say goodbye (but as far as my research goes that's a lesser known meaning and it usually means true love). it's name also comes from the greek word for circles (i think) so uhhhh idk i was going for another metaphor there.
> 
> white gardenias are also about love and gentleness, however it can particularly be used to express a secret love so... yep. read into that as you will.
> 
> i spent an inordinate amount of time picking out those flowers and they're barely even mentioned so.
> 
> anyway yeah, mild warning for light homophobia but it's like barely there. 
> 
> okay, on with the chapter!

**SUMMER 2009**

Alfred stands in front of the mirror, fidgeting with his bowtie, pulling his suit jacket on, and then taking it back off, untucking and re-tucking his shirt, wondering whether or not he should wear a waistcoat like his mum said.

He’d forgone the typical black tux that most of the guys from his school would, no doubt, be wearing, in favour of deep navy jacket printed with soft pink flowers, and trousers to match, over a white shirt with a pink bowtie. This was a last hurrah with his classmates, and he wasn’t about to blend into the sea of black and white that was almost certainly waiting for him at prom. If anyone gave him shit for it, well, he probably wouldn’t have to see them again anyway.

He glances at the matching waistcoat his mum had made a point of draping over the chair in his room. He wasn’t going to wear it, because he was afraid it might be too much, but… Well, it’s now or never, isn’t it? 

He quickly pulls it on, and smiles at himself in the mirror. 

His phone buzzes on the desk next to him, and he glances over to see a text from Edward announcing that he’s outside. No less than 10 seconds later, he hears the sound of the door, and his mum calling upstairs that Edward is here.

Alfred checks his hair quickly in the mirror, before tucking his phone into his pocket and hurrying downstairs before his mum can embarrass him too much by gushing over how handsome Edward, no doubt, looks.

Of course he looks gorgeous. Alfred knew that before he even saw him, but that doesn’t stop his breath catching in his throat when he sees Edward, dressed in deep burgundy, having also decided to forgo the traditional black, albeit in a slightly less flamboyant way than Alfred.

“You look…” Edward trails off for a moment as Alfred comes to a halt in front of him, his eyes tracing the length of Alfred’s body like he’s trying to memorise the sight, until his eyes come up to rest on Alfred’s. “You look good.”

“Just good?” Alfred teases. 

“You look incredible, Alfred,” Edward’s face cracks into a smile, though Alfred is sure he can detect a hint of nerves somewhere in his eyes.

“As do you.” Alfred grins. “However, I am going to take issue with your hair.”

Edward frowns. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“I’ve told you a million times not to use so much gel,” Alfred says, standing up on his toes and reaching up to muss up Edward’s hair, which he, no doubt, spent half an hour styling.

Edward makes a noise of protest but makes no attempt to stop Alfred.

“It looks much better when you just let it be. You should grow them out on top, you know. You’d look pretty sexy if you did. Your curls are, frankly, gorgeous, I don’t know why you use all this product,” Alfred tuts, before stepping back to look at his handiwork, Edward’s curls falling across his forehead, instead of being slicked back. “There. Much better.”

Edward rolls his eyes, but his lips curve up into a small smile in spite of himself.

“Should we head off, then?” 

“I, uh, I actually have something for you,” Edward says, producing a small parcel of tissue paper from his pocket, unwrapping it to reveal a single pink flower. “It’s, uh, it’s a cyclamen, my mum was growing them, and I thought it might look nice with your suit. You don’t have to wear it, but-“

“Edward,” Alfred cuts him off before he can ramble his way into a panic attack. “I would _love_ to wear it.” 

Edward’s frown dissipates to a goofy grin, and he nods. “Okay, yeah, awesome, let me just-“ he takes a step forwards, leaning into Alfred’s space and pinning the flower gently onto his lapel. Alfred feels like he can hardly breath, with Edward stood in such close proximity to him, so close Alfred can smell his cologne and his shower gel underneath it.

Edward glances up, and seems to realise, all of a sudden, just how close he is to Alfred, their faces a mere few inches apart. For a moment Alfred wonders if Edward might kiss him, but then his mum hurries over, camera in hand, and Edward takes a step back.

“I found it!” she calls, brandishing her camera. “I need plenty of photos of the both of you looking so _handsome_.”

“We’ll be late, mum,” Alfred says, darting his eyes at Edward quickly.

“ _Fashionably_ late,” she says. “Come on, into the garden, I want the perfect backdrop for you.”

Alfred knows when to stop arguing with his mother, so he follows her out into the garden, rolling his eyes at Edward as he goes, and poses for what must be a million photographs, trying not to think about Edward’s arm warm around his waist like they’re a real prom couple, like they’re not just going as _friends_.

“That flower is gorgeous, Alfred,” His mum says in between photographs. “Edward, did you bring it?”

Edward’s face turns so red it almost matches his jacket. “Uh, yeah, I stole it from my mum’s garden.”

Alfred’s mum swats him on the shoulder. “Alfred, why haven’t you found a flower for Edward?” 

“No, really, it’s not a big deal,” Edward says.

“Seriously, mum, Flo and Mina will wonder where we are.”

“I insist! We can’t have you going with an empty lapel, what will people think?” 

Alfred blushes, as he’s ushered away by his mother to survey the flowerbeds for a suitable adornment. “It’s not like he’s my date, mum,” he says. The look his mother shoots him says she doesn’t buy that, even for a second. 

“I think a white gardenia will do nicely, don’t you?” His mum glances at him conspiratorially. He remembers her forcing him to learn the meanings of the flowers when he was little and blushes a little.

“Don’t you think that’s a little romantic?” Alfred hisses as she leans forward to clip a single flower.

“Nonsense. Besides, have you seen the flower he brought you?” 

“He probably doesn’t even know what it means.”

His mum frowns at him, and shakes her head, glancing back at Edward, who’s hovering awkwardly and checking his phone. “Are we even talking about the same boy?” She pats Alfred’s shoulder. “I’ll go and sort this out and fetch a safety pin.” 

Just like that, his mother disappears back into the house, leaving Alfred feeling very awkward all of a sudden with his best friend.

“I texted Flo to let her know we were running late,” Edward says, interrupting the silence.

Alfred nods, and they lapse back into silence for a few moments. “Sorry about my mum. You’d think she’d be bored of proms by now, after Emily and Clarence and Mary but…” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Edward smiles somewhat sadly, and Alfred feels a pit open up in his stomach when he remembers that Edward’s parents probably don’t even know their prom is tonight.

Alfred’s about to say something when his mum hurries back out into the garden, brandishing the flower and a pin. “Here we go!” She hurries up to Edward and pins it on quickly, before taking a step back and placing a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you two just look so handsome together.”

Alfred has to resist the urge to facepalm.

“Mum, seriously, we’re going to be late,” Alfred says, kissing her quickly on the cheek and leading Edward forward with a hand on the small of his back.

“Alfred, you make sure Mina’s aunt takes plenty photos of the 4 of you when you go to pick up the girls, or I’ll never forgive you!” She calls after the two of them.

Alfred waves over his shoulder at her as he practically pushes Edward out of the garden towards his car, hoping to escape before she can embarrass him any more than she already has.

 

* * *

 

Another thing to add to the list of things Alfred loathes beyond comprehension: house parties.

When he was 17 and it was pretty much the only way to get his hand on alcohol, house parties had seemed cool and magical, and he was desperate to be invited to one, if only so he’d have something to do with his Saturday night. He didn’t realised how much posturing they involved, and how dependent they were upon the oppressive societal norms that percolated their way into the collective psyche of his generation.

Okay, so maybe he was never invited because he said pretentious things like that. 

And, as it turns out, things never change, because after 10 years this house party feels exactly the same, with the exception of the fact that everyone in attendance is far too old to be drinking as much as they are, and from red solo cups no less. It’s like a walking cliché. Half the people in this room have kids, and the vast majority are married, and yet here they all are, drinking and flirting and fighting like they’re 18 and they’re invincible and they’ve got nothing to lose.

Alfred, for one, has assumed the same position he always did at events like these: a comfortable sofa hidden away in the corner where he can observe unnoticed until he decides he’s prepared to return to the throng of people and continue with the endless platitudes and small talk and flirting and dancing and on and on and _on_. 

God, he hates parties, but he is exceptionally good at dealing with them.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Alfred would recognise that voice anywhere. “I’ve already got one, thanks.” Alfred gestures with his cup without looking in Edward’s direction. 

“Mind if I sit down, then?” 

Alfred drags his eyes away from what appears to be a steadily brewing fight between two guys from school who used to get into it at least once a week. Nothing’s changed there, either, then. Edward is looking at him with big, sad eyes, lips twitching up into an attempt at a smile, like he’s trying to convey ten years of hurt in one stare, like he’s aching to apologise _again_.

Alfred knows better, knows he shouldn’t keep giving in to Edward like this, knows he should resent him a little more, but every time Edward shows up it’s like every single one of his defences drops again, and he’s that 18 year old boy who thought Edward could do no wrong, before he left, before he shattered Alfred’s heart, before he showed up out of the blue ten years later to hurt him again. 

He nods quickly, looking away and directing his gaze to the bottom of his cup. Almost empty. Perhaps he should have taken that drink offer after all.

Edward sinks into the sofa next to him, and Alfred abruptly reminded of the fact that this sofa, though supposedly for two, is still rather narrow, as their legs connect hip to thigh. He’s almost certain Edward has shuffled over deliberately, but he doesn’t want to call attention to it if he can avoid it. 

He finishes the rest of his drink in one quick swallow, and sets his cup on a nearby side table, before turning back to face Edward. Liquid courage.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Well, it might surprise you to know that I was invited.” Edward replies, a playful smile on his face.

“Not here, Edward,” Alfred gestures to the room, “ _here_.” He jabs a finger towards Edward’s chest. “Aren’t you endangering your big secret by even being seen with me? Gay by association, right?”

“Things have changed since we were kids, Alfred,” Edward pleads.

“Yeah, you’ve said that before, but from where I stand nothing’s really changed at all.” Alfred gestures around the room again. “Look at this shit, everything is _exactly_ the _same_ as it was before. We’re all older and supposedly wiser, but nothing changes. Not you, not me.” 

“You still look at me the same way,” Edward says, his words surprisingly hollow, and it feels like a punch to the gut. “You look at me the same way you always have, and every time I catch your eye it’s like I’m 18 again, and I forget the last 10 years even happened.” 

Alfred doesn’t even know how to respond, he feels utterly winded by Edward’s words. It feels like the party around them has paused, or gone into slow motion, as everything shifts to revolve around what Edward is saying.

“And then you look away, and I lose you all over again.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Alfred says, shaking his head and looking away from Edward’s eyes. “You left. And now you’re back, and look at you, still trying to find reasons to leave me.” He turns back so his eyes pierce into Edward’s with each word. “Like I said. Nothing really changes.”

“Is that what you want?” Edward asks after a beat of silence. “For me to leave?” 

Alfred takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No. Yes. Maybe?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Every time I think I know, you show up again and _screw_ with my _fucking head_.” 

Edward nods quietly, taking in Alfred’s words. “For the record,” he says, standing up. “It was never you I was trying to leave. I loved you, and I really believe that you loved me too. It’s just this town, you know? Messes me up.” He offers Alfred sad smile and turns to leave.

Before he can go, however, Alfred catches him by the elbow, jumping to his feet. “Wait.”

Edward turns to face him, his expression hopeful, if a little confused. “Yeah?”

Emboldened by the alcohol, Alfred keeps his hand on Edward’s arm as he speaks. “Maybe we could get coffee some time, properly catch up, you know. We haven’t really talked about what we’ve both been up to these last 10 years since you’ve been back. Friends?”

Edward smiles wryly. They both know, deep down, that the two of them can never really be _just friends_ , it’s all or nothing when it comes to them. But maybe it’s a good starting point. “Friends,” he says, putting his hand over Alfred’s and squeezing gently before disappearing back into the crowd.

 _Friends_ , Alfred thinks to himself. He can do that. He can make friends work this time around, he’s sure of it.

He looks around and soaks in the noise and the chaos of the party, and decides to get himself another drink.

 

* * *

 

**SUMMER 2009**

By the time they finally get to the hotel where their prom is taking place, things are well underway, and they are, officially, _very late_. So late, in fact, that they’ve totally missed the free drinks being provided at the door, which Edward is not best pleased about. 

“I guarantee you the bar is going to be ridiculously overpriced,” he mutters and Alfred rolls his eyes, patting his shoulder.

“That’s why I brought this,” He says, slipping a hip flask out of his jacket pocket and winking at him, shaking it suggestively before tucking it away again.

“Alfred Paget, how scandalous of you,” Mina nudges him as they make their way over to check the table plan and find their seats.

“Looks like we had the same idea,” Florence pulls her own hip flask out of a pocket in her skirt, which immediately attracts Mina’s attention as she gushes over how _on earth_ Florence found a dress with _pockets_.

Alfred winks conspiratorially at her. This evening is going to be excellent, he’s _certain_ of it.

They find their seats, after some chaos, and settle in for a relatively mediocre meal considering what they’ve all paid for their tickets, and sneak drinks under the table and all get pleasantly buzzed before the dinner is over, which means by the time the tables are cleared and the music is turned up, they’re more than ready to start dancing. 

In the end, they’re the first people to hit the dancefloor, and if they get a few strange looks from the other kids then who cares, because at the end of this summer they’re all scattering like seeds on the wind to different corners of the country. Eventually other people start to pile onto the dancefloor with them as the music pounds and it feels like the evening is glittering with some kind of glamour. 

Maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol in his veins, and maybe it’s the fact that none of it matters anymore, but Edward is dancing up close to Alfred, and draping his hands over his shoulders and swaying his hips to the rhythm of the music against Alfred’s, and for a moment Alfred loses himself in the moment. For a moment he lets himself slip into a world where he and Edward can dance together and nobody sees anything out of the ordinary, a world where maybe he could lean in and kiss Edward without either of them being afraid. A world where nothing matters except the way their bodies are moving together.

And then the magic of the moment wears off, and the whispers flying around the room get just a little too loud, and Edward is recoiling from him and taking three steps back to put some distance between their bodies again, and the illusion of the evening fades away to reveal a dancefloor that’s sticky with spilled drinks, and the thrumming of crap music, and the mass of sweaty bodies all crowded into one space.

It’s not the perfect fantasy he’d imagined, and he realises that he and Edward aren’t as immune to everyone’s stares as he might have liked to think, as he watches Edward slip away in the crowd and head for the door.

Alfred finds him outside in the (thankfully) abandoned smoking area. He wanders up next to Edward, and lights up a cigarette, taking a drag and offering it to Edward.

Edward smiles a little tightly at him but takes the cigarette anyway.

“Sorry for disappearing. I, uh, I needed some air,” Edward says, exhaling the smoke and passing the cigarette back to Alfred, and _god_ he looks far too sexy for his own good. 

“You mean you needed some space from those assholes back there?” 

Edward chuckles, shaking his head and glancing at Alfred. “Yeah.”

“You know, this whole thing is kinda lame,” Alfred says, taking a drag and then glancing at Edward with a cheeky smile.

“Right? I thought prom was supposed to be the best night of our lives, but all I’ve got is dry chicken, bad music, and homophobes.” Edward bumps their shoulders.

“D’you want to get out of here?” Alfred becomes aware, after he’s said it, that there’s a lot more hanging on his words than just ditching prom.

“We’ve only been here like an hour and a half,” Edward raises his eyebrows.

“And it’s crap. Next question.” Alfred raises his eyebrows back, before rolling his eyes and passing the cigarette back to Edward. 

“You’ve been drinking.”

“We’re not driving anywhere. I got a room at this hotel so we didn’t need to worry about it. Besides, I’ve really not had that much anyway.” Alfred pulls a key card out of his pocket and waves it at Edward with a grin. “Next.”

Edward squints at him, but concedes. “Flo and Mina?” 

“They wanted to go to some kind of afterparty anyway, I’m sure they can get a ride. _And_ if they don’t go then Mina also has a room here,” Alfred says, and he can see the tension dissipating from Edward’s body. “So, do you want to get out of here?”

Edward seems to have finally latched on to what Alfred is hinting at, and his pupils have blown wide, and the cigarette between his lips is almost burned down to the filter. He takes what’s left of the cigarette and stubs it out as he exhales, before turning back to Alfred. “I would love to.” 

Alfred sends Mina a quick text on his way back to the room, tucking his phone into his pocket and pulling out the hip flask, passing it over to Edward with a smile.

Edward shakes his head, though, taking Alfred’s hand instead and squeezing it. “I want to remember this night,” he says. 

Alfred swallows thickly and nods, putting the flask away and trying not to overthink the fact that Edward is still holding his hand, as they make their way down long corridors looking for their room.

“71… 72… 73…” Edward counts aloud as he walks along the hallway, before coming to a halt with a grin. “374.”

Alfred grins at him, even though his stomach is full of butterflies, unlocking the room and practically dragging Edward inside. 

They stand there for a few moments, watching each other as though they’re trying to work out which of them should make the first move. 

“So…” Alfred begins, but before he can get any further Edward is closing the distance between them and grabbing Alfred by his lapels to pull him in and crash their lips together.

The kiss only lasts a few brief moments before Edward is pulling away and knocking their foreheads together, eyes still closed with a dopey grin on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Alfred grins and settles one hand on the back of Edward’s neck. “God, me too,” he whispers, before tilting his chin up to capture Edward’s lips again, kissing him slowly and sweetly, like he’s been dreaming of doing for years.

He takes off his jacket without breaking the kiss, before moving his hands to Edward’s, leaning back a little to speak. “This okay?” He asks as he starts to slide Edward’s jacket off his shoulders. 

“God, yes.” 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Alfred says, hand firm on the back of Edward’s neck so their eyes meet properly.

“I want to,” Edward says, stroking his hands up Alfred’s side. “I mean, if you want to, that is.”

“God, I want to, Edward,” Alfred grins, as he works on undoing Edward’s tie, before moving onto his shirt buttons.

Edward presses a quick kiss onto Alfred’s lips before he speaks again. “Do you want to-“ he punctuates his sentence with another kiss- “move over to the bed?”

Alfred nods furiously, reconnecting their lips and walking Edward over to the bed as his fingers fumble over Edward’s belt buckle.

“Have you done this before?” Edward asks as Alfred kicks off his shoes and hops onto the bed.

Alfred chew on his lip and nods at the bed. Edward sits next to him, kicks off his shoes and looks over at Alfred again.

“Once. But I didn’t care about him nearly as much as I care about you,” Alfred says, tracing a hand down Edward’s arm until he reaches Edward’s hand, taking it and squeezing gently.

Edward’s lips curve up slightly in a small smile, before he leans in to kiss Alfred again, leaning in until Alfred starts to lie down, pulling Edward on top of him and pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

Afterwards, Alfred curls up against Edward’s chest, his hand exploring endless miles of soft skin stretched out underneath him. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt more content than in this one perfect moment, illuminated by soft lamplight in a ridiculously comfortable hotel bed with Edward’s thumb rubbing a small circle into his hip.

“Alfred?” Edward says, his hand stilling slightly. “You won’t tell anyone about this, right?”

And just like that, Alfred’s buzz dissipates. “Why?” he asks, without moving.

“I know it sounds bad, but my dad… I mean, if it ever got back to him, I don’t know what would happen. And I’m not really ready to be _out_ , you know.” Edward says, and it’s clear he’s doing his best to avoid any kind of argument. 

Alfred forces himself to relax. “Yeah, I get it.” 

Edward presses a kiss to the top of Alfred’s head. “Thank you,” he whispers, and he sounds so genuinely grateful that Alfred can’t even find it in his heart to be annoyed.

It does hurt, though, like _hell_.

He knows, realistically, that Edward isn’t ashamed of _him_ specifically, and he wants to support Edward, because god know he knows how hard it is to be openly gay in their crap town. But. He can’t help the gnawing feeling in his chest, try as he might to ignore it. He’s taken so much shit for being gay over the years, he thought maybe he’d earned the right to be happy without strings. Apparently not.

It’s safe to say his afterglow is thoroughly ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmm yeah so don't kill me for that ending im begging
> 
> thank you so much for reading!! drop me a comment to let me know what you thought <3
> 
> next time: actual conversations and a trip to the beach
> 
> thank you again! <3


	5. talk about life since then (talk about why did it end)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> friends, beach, the talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right, here we go!
> 
> the song of this chapter is [dakota](https://open.spotify.com/track/3qaSqrrevBrb84xl5JlptU?si=L7n8KZNuTlmEfa2eBOcfkQ) by stereophonics (which is a totally different type of music to literally every other song i've used thus far but it's a vibe, forgive me). alternatively, [generation why](https://open.spotify.com/track/79e2GU4RLPjAqnijfvsXYr?si=FZokBd2mR8iQv5YT_GhMQw) by conan gray, which is a vibe for the flashback scene this chapter in particular, and was another working title for this chapter.
> 
> also a very serious TW for discussions of past-abuse in this chapter, specifically the third section, please don't read if you're not comfortable with that.
> 
> okay, and now, on with the chapter!

Alfred’s knee bounces up and down under the table with surprising velocity. To say he’s nervous would be one hell of an understatement.

He was now considerably more sober than he had been when he’d first suggested meeting up for coffee in the first place, and considerably more aware of the fact that he’d have to face Edward again than he had been when it was all just texts on a screen. Basically, he’s dreading the experience, and would kind of like to go back in time and slap his drunken self for even suggesting it.

He will admit, though, that drunk-Alfred had a point. 

Every time he and Edward interact, there seems to be some kind of nuclear impact between them that ends in them either arguing or falling into bed together, and it’s starting to drive Alfred just a little bit crazy. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the amazing sex, but he’d quite like for him and Edward to just have a normal conversation, just once.

He wants to be friends again, because god knows if there was one thing he missed more than anything else in the ten years they were apart, it was just being Edward’s friend. Besides, if they’re ever going to unravel all the hurt that’s built up between them, they need to take a few steps back instead of falling back into bed with each other without really addressing the root of the problem.

He’s fairly sure that’s what his therapist would say if she was here.

So. Friends. 

That thought pretty much goes out the window when Edward walks into the café in a dark grey Henley that is unbuttoned one button too low to be allowed in public, surely, and it takes all of Alfred’s willpower to stay seated and not jump him right then and there. 

His curls are roaming free across his forehead, and he’s grinning at Alfred like he just won the lottery, and that’s really not _fair_ because he’s trying to exercise some damn self-restraint.

“Hey!” Edward is practically beaming at him as he approaches the table Alfred is sat at, and it’s like Edward is consciously trying to undermine Alfred’s (mostly) honest attempt at friendship. “Did you already order a drink?”

Alfred shakes his head mutely, still trying to find his words again following Edward’s dazzling entrance.

“It’s on me. Hazelnut cappuccino, right?”

And now Alfred is blushing, because _Edward still remembers his coffee order?_ Now that’s definitely got to be some kind of foul play.

“Uh, yeah,” Alfred manages, oh-so-eloquently, before Edward disappears to the counter and he’s able to actually compose himself. 

He’s in the midst of reminding himself how to breathe like a normal human being when Edward returns with two drinks and a rather large slice of cake.

“I remembered how much you liked the ginger cake here,” Edward smiles sheepishly as he sets it down in front of Alfred. 

“Okay, letting you get my drink was one thing, but cake too…” Alfred leans back in his seat like he needs some physical distance, from Edward or the cake, he’s not sure. 

“What if we share it?” Edward suggests, brandishing two forks like he’d predicted Alfred’s protestations.

“I’ll pay you back.”

“No need,” Edward says, passing Alfred a fork and pushing the cake into the middle of the table. “What’s a couple of quid between friends, anyway?”

He’s smiling at Alfred so genuinely that Alfred really can’t do anything other than accept. Damn Edward and his stupidly endearing face and his ability to wrap Alfred around his middle finger as if they weren’t barely on speaking terms not two days ago.

“So,” Alfred begins, “how have you been? I heard you ended up at St Andrews in the end?”

Edward ducks his head like he’s trying to hide a blush. “Uh, yeah, graduated with a first, landed a good internship with a local MP and I’ve been working my way up ever since.”

“Edward, that’s incredible,” Alfred says, grinning at him. “Are we going to see you in the houses of parliament at some point?”

Edward laughs and ducks his head again. “Maybe someday,” he says, and Alfred can hear the smile on his face. “And you? I mean I know you’re doing your PhD, but where did you end up?”

Alfred scratches his head and looks away. “I, uh, I stayed local, you know, went to Bangor and just commuted from here. Saved myself a small fortune in accommodation costs, you know.”

Edward frowns like he’s trying to make sense of what Alfred is saying. “I thought you had your heart set on Edinburgh. I mean, the way you talked about their English course… and they gave you such a good offer…” he trails off. “Did you miss the requirements?” 

“Uh, yeah. I guess things just don’t work out sometimes,” Alfred says, avoiding Edward’s stare. He’s never been a good liar, and he doesn’t think he could bear to come clean to Edward about the real reason he decided he couldn’t go to Edinburgh and plumped for his insurance choice uni instead. 

“Man, that’s too bad,” Edward reaches over to squeeze his arm. “Still, it seems like Bangor has treated you well.”

“Top of my year, if you can believe it,” Alfred waggles his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Of course I can. And I’m sure your PhD is going to be equally incredible,” Edward says, and Alfred notices that Edward still hasn’t taken his hand back from Alfred’s arm. 

“I’ll spare you the details. I really don’t think you need to hear my incessant ramblings about queer literature. I’ve driven Mina insane with it all.” Alfred rolls his eyes, but Edward’s face remains wholly sincere.

“I want to hear about it.” Edward squeezes his arm, and Alfred forces himself to draw back before he gets too invested.

_Friends_ , he reminds himself.

“If you’re sure?”

Edward gives him a look as he takes his hand back and wraps it around his coffee mug. “I’m sure.”

Alfred feels his heart warm a little at the sincerity on Edward’s face as he launches into an explanation of his thesis and the texts he’s looking at, while Edward listens attentively like it’s the most interesting thing he’s heard in his entire life.

He’d forgotten how genuine Edward could be when he wasn’t being a dick.

 

* * *

 

**(STILL) SUMMER 2009**

The weather is uncommonly warm for late June, in fact, it’s so warm that most people have given up on sunbathing in favour of sitting inside in front of a fan, and every single corner shop has run out of ice cream, and even the ice cream vans are running low.

It’s also so hot that Edward hasn’t worn a shirt in what must be several days, which is most definitely a health risk for Alfred, because it means he’s constantly on the brink of a heart attack. It’s not like it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but it makes the temptation all too great, _especially_ since he and Edward started…. sleeping together? Dating feels too strong given they’ve never actually been on a date, but fuckbuddies seems too reductive… Maybe he should just settle for ‘it’s complicated’. Regardless, since they started whatever it is they’re doing, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other.

It’s safe to say they’ve been taking as many opportunities as possible, including one incident in the back of Edward’s car. It wasn’t the most comfortable, and Alfred burnt himself on more than one seatbelt buckle that had been merrily baking in the sun for several hours, but it got the job done. And at least Alfred’s parents don’t know, so they have no objection to Edward sleeping over almost every night. Not that much sleeping really happens.

The summer haze has put a nice filter over the world, making everything feel softer, easier, like a scene from a movie where all anyone has to do is lounge around on the beach all day and drink beer and look gorgeous.

Edward has also taken to eating ice lollies in a practically _sinful_ way, which isn’t helping Alfred’s situation _at all_. He honestly can’t believe anyone is allowed to walk around looking that fucking sexy, all tan skin and sculpted muscle and perfect hair tousled from the sea. He also can’t believe anyone like that would deign to look at him twice, but here he is.

Alfred has dragged Edward to the beach almost every day since their exams ended, even though he burns almost straight away if he doesn’t slather himself in factor 50 (that’s certainly led to some… interesting moments which almost involved them having sex on the beach). They spend hours on end laying on beach towels, Alfred working his way through Shakespeare, or Wilde, or Homer, or Auden, while Edward works his way through a different political manifesto each day.

It’s the first week of the holidays, they’re finally free from the ever-oppressive A levels, and they feel infinite. 

“ _The Iliad_ , again?” Edward teases one day, poking Alfred with a sandy toe. “Don’t you have it memorised by now?”

“You can’t overread a classic, babe,” Alfred says, shooting Edward a grin. 

“Okay, come on, read it to me then, I know you want to.” 

Alfred wrinkles his nose. “It’s kind of depressing.”

“Which bit are you at?” 

“Achilles and Priam. Book 24.”

Edward stares at him blankly and Alfred rolls his eyes before beginning to read.

“The games were over now. The gathered armies scattered,  
each man to his fast ship, and fighters turned their minds  
to thoughts of food and the sweet warm grip of sleep.  
But Achilles kept on grieving for his friend,  
the memory burning on…  
and all-subduing sleep could not take him,  
not now, he turned and twisted, side to side,  
he longed for Patroclus’ manhood, his-“

“I’m sorry, he what?” Edward interrupted, beginning to cackle with laughter. “Tell me that’s not what it actually says.”

Alfred rolls his eyes at Edward again before turning the book towards him. “Word for word.”

“Was this translator on something?”

Alfred chuckles as he slides his bookmark into place and closes the book. “Most likely.” 

He takes a moment to relish in the image in front of him: Edward, sun-kissed and laughing like nothing bothers him. If Alfred had known it would be the last time, maybe he would have dwelled a little longer.

“So listen, I was thinking about this summer, and I _know_ you said you couldn’t afford to go interrailing-“ 

“I’m not letting you, or your family for that matter, pay for it.” Edward cuts him off before he’s even begun. 

“I knew you’d say that, which is why I’m not suggesting that, you dork,” Alfred kicks gently at Edward’s shin, pushing himself up into a seated position while Edward watches him from where he’s propped up on his elbows. “My dad’s friend has a flat in Cornwall that he’d be willing to rent to us for £10 each per night. Right by the beach, close to a few decent bars, and as long as we keep it clean and don’t break anything we’re welcome to use it.”

“Alfred-“ 

“Come on, I mean we could get away, have a little time to ourselves…” Alfred trails his hand over Edward’s chest suggestively.

He doesn’t miss the way Edward’s eyes glance furtively around the deserted beach, just in case. He tries to ignore it.

“I was going to say yes, Alfred.” He pushes up on his hands and presses a quick kiss onto Alfred’s lips, his hand stroking his cheek. “I would love to go away with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Edward’s hands wander slightly across the planes of Alfred’s chest. For someone so concerned about keeping things between them a secret, he doesn’t seem to mind too much that they’re very much out in the open still.

And then, just like that. Edward is snatching his hands away and leaping to his feet.

“I’ll race you to the sea!” he says, bouncing on his heels like a little kid and starting to dash towards the ocean before Alfred’s even stood up. 

“You cheat!” Alfred yells as he races after him, flicking sand up as he goes. 

He splashes into the ocean behind Edward, and immediately jumps onto his back, knocking him over and immediately submerging them both. They both resurface a moment later, and Edward immediately tackles him right back, splashing him until Alfred is begging for mercy. 

“Please, I give up,” Alfred laughs, holding his hands up.

“Oh you do, do you?” Edward stops splashing at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Now what shall be my prize?” He strokes his chin mockingly.

Alfred grins and paddles over to him, until he’s close enough to loop his arms around Edward’s neck, his legs instinctively wrapping around Edward’s waist.

“How about a kiss?”

Edward tilts his head and frowns for a moment as though he’s considering, even as his arms wrap around Alfred’s waist to support him. “I’ll take it,” he replies, before ducking his head down to capture Alfred’s lips with his own.

The kiss tastes more of seawater than anything else, and Alfred can feel Edward’s wet hair sticking to his own forehead, and he can definitely feel the skin on his back beginning to burn, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I wish things could stay like this forever,” Alfred whispers when Edward eventually pulls back.

There’s something sad in Edward’s eyes when he replies, almost like he already knows what's going to happen that evening. “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

“Did I ever tell you what went down that summer, the day I left?” Edward leans back in his seat. The café is all but empty now, and they’re both on at least their third drink, and it’s almost closing time, but they’re both still sat, drinking coffee as the staff start to mop up around them.

Alfred shrugs. “Figured it had something to do with your dad. I just assumed you’d finally had enough of him, of this town.” _Of me_ , he almost says, but he bites back the words.

“You’re half-right,” Edward says. “The day I left, I had the worst fight with my dad I’d ever had. He found out about us. I don’t know how, maybe he just guessed, maybe someone else found out and told him, I don’t know. But he just… lost it.”

Alfred can see the way Edward seems to have retreated into himself just from mentioning his dad, and it hurts him to see, like the light has faded from his eyes a little from the memories.

“So he’s coming at me, he’s _screaming_ , and he’s totally off his face, yelling these slurs at me, telling me I’m disgusting, I’m an embarrassment to the family, and he won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour under his roof.” Edward puts on a gruff voice like he’s impersonating his father, and it makes Alfred’s heart ache. Even after all these years, he’s still trying to make a joke out of it. “And then he grabs this knife off the kitchen counter.”

Edward seems remarkably calm, all things considered. He’s not tearing up, he’s not getting emotional, he just looks younger, like he’s reverted back to that 18 year old boy. He also looks tired, like this story is sapping the life out of him.

Meanwhile, Alfred can’t do anything but watch and wait, hoping Edward won’t pull back his shirt to reveal some dreadful scar Alfred hadn’t noticed before.

“And I figured that was going to be it, you know? That was how I was going to die, and then he’d go to prison, and my mum would be, I don’t know, safe at least?” 

“Jesus, Edward,” Alfred murmurs.

“But then he turned, and he got really quiet for a second,” Edward is slowly shredding an empty sugar packet into tiny fragments as he speaks, “and then he told me that if I didn’t put an end to what was going on between you and me, _he_ would.” 

Edward chews on his lip, staring blankly at the shredded sugar packet on the table. He looks so vulnerable that Alfred wants to reach out and hug him, but it feels like he’s been glued to his seat.

“I panicked, and I knew I couldn’t let him get to you, so I packed up everything I could fit into my car, and I grabbed the keys, and I just started driving. I knew I couldn’t go back, so I just drove until I got to my aunt’s.” Edward purses his lips. “She put me up for the summer, helped me get myself sorted and everything, and then sent me off to university.” 

Alfred sits for a moment, utterly shell-shocked by what Edward had said. All he wants is to hold him in his arms and tell him it will all be alright, but it feels like that would be crossing some kind of unspoken line.

“Edward, I’m so sorry,” he says, instead. 

“It was hardly your fault.” Edward musters up a half-smile.

Alfred hesitates a little before he speaks again. “I still don’t understand, though, you could have said something to me. You could have texted, emailed, called, even just once, to let me know what happened,” Alfred says, and _god_ , it feels so overwhelmingly selfish given what Edward’s just told him, but he _needs_ to know.

“You don’t know how many times I thought about it, Alfred. I even wrote you this stupidly long letter explaining everything, but I couldn’t bring myself to send it,” Edward says, eyes fixed firmly on his. “I didn’t want to drag you into this mess any more than I already had.”

“That’s why you wanted to keep us a secret again, even after all this time.” Alfred isn’t asking. He realises now exactly why Edward had been so concerned.

“All I wanted was for you to be safe,” Edward reaches across the table and takes Alfred’s hand.

“We could have faced this together, Edward. I could have helped you.”

Edward presses his eyes closed and squeezes Alfred’s hand. “I know, but I was a dumb kid, Alfred, and all I knew was that I had to get away.”

Alfred swallows, and nods, before squeezing Edward’s hand back. “I’m sorry I was harsh.”

Edward shakes his head. “No more apologies,” he says. “Call it even?”

Alfred chuckles quietly. “Sure, call it even.”

There’s a few beats of loaded silence between them as they drink each other in, like it’s the first time they’ve really looked in ten years. 

“Maybe you and I just weren’t meant to be,” Alfred gives Edward a sad smile. “I care about you so much, Edward, but I can’t hide again. After all the shit I went through to be out, all the insults and jeers and downright bullying I endured, I can’t go back into the closet.”

Alfred swallows thickly. He’d never wanted to present Edward with this ultimatum, had never wanted to make him choose, but this time round it doesn’t really feel like that. It feels more like resignation to the inevitable, instead of a choice he’s forcing Edward to make. 

Edward’s face mirrors Alfred’s, their hands still twined together in the middle of the table. “Yeah, I know.”

“It always ends up like this for us, doesn’t it?” 

Edward presses his eyes closed and nods.

“So what now?” Alfred asks. 

Edward pulls his hand back, shaking his head a little as he blinks back his tears, before he speaks. “I, uh, I’m gonna head back to St Andrews. You know, my boss has been asking when I’m coming back, and I’m running out of holiday time, so I… I should probably go back.”

Alfred swallows, and nods, and tries to act like Edward’s words didn’t just hit him with the same amount of force as an atomic bomb. “Yeah, I mean, that makes sense.” 

“We’ll stay in touch though, right?” Edward looks so devastated, and all Alfred can think is that he’s _leaving again_ , and it’s breaking his fucking heart. 

“Yeah, of course,” Alfred smiles, but it feels so hollow. In his head he wants to scream and cry about how he just got Edward back, how they were building towards something, and if they could just get out of this _stupid fucking town_ everything could be perfect.

But he keeps his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhhhhhh 
> 
> please don't hate me
> 
> they're getting there i promise
> 
> let me know what you thought of this chapter! hopefully you're not sick of me toying with emotions just yet...
> 
> next time: fuckin yikes, you thought this chapter was rough?
> 
> thank you so so so much for reading! just two chapters left! <3<3<3


	6. (will our lives be better) when we make it to the other side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gone, mina, the letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okey dokey, here we go! launching into the shitstorm headfirst!
> 
> idk how many people actually listens to the songs i put here but im gonna keep bombarding you with sad songs... the song of this chapter is [the other side](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mAy8zQhZJICLFUEVGQzbE?si=i4cV60Z2R5unKdpCOvI2rw) by conan gray bc damn what a vibe. also [can't love me](https://open.spotify.com/track/4eJKMwqK0P8VnMBuR0Ufl5?si=STN5aHdLQNuoGov8_mNgIA) by novi and tyler blackburn which wasn't part of my writing process, but it was in this weeks episode of roswell new mexico, which is like the reason this fic exists, and like oof
> 
> this is the penultimate chapter, but it's also kinda just an angsty mess that was entirely unnecessary and very much gratuitous and i could have easily resolved this last chapter but yeah
> 
> also the last 'flashback' is a letter bc i ran out of flashback scenes to pad between my present day scenes so just go with it on this one uhhh
> 
> anyway yeah on with the chapter!

**( _STILL_ ) SUMMER 2009**

Alfred sits in his car, parked outside Edward’s house, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously. He’s been sat there for at least ten minutes already trying to work up the courage to go in.

He hasn’t been here since he was a little kid, for Edward’s 8thBirthday party, back in primary school, in the early days before there was a social hierarchy, and long before Alfred ended up at the bottom of it, before secondary school had led them stumbling off in different directions. He thinks maybe that party was pirate themed, with eyepatches, and a cake shaped like a boat, and a treasure hunt for chocolate coins hidden around the garden. It was a simpler time, he thinks.

Even once they’d rekindled their friendship, Edward had been reluctant to invite him over, and Alfred supposes he can see why, especially given what Edward’s told him about Charles Drummond’s opinion of him. In fact, Alfred is pretty sure that Edward’s house is the last place he wants to be, if he plans to remain unscathed, but the thing is it’s been a week since he last saw Edward, and he hasn’t been returning his calls or texts, and, frankly, Alfred is worried something might have happened.

Florence won’t text him back either, which makes Alfred think she might know something he doesn’t, and nobody else around town has heard from him, and he’s starting to freak out a little. So. Here he is, about to do possibly the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

He turns off the engine, and he’s about to get out of the car when a hand slaps over his window, effectively stopping him, hand frozen on the car door. 

“Are you fucking insane?” Florence’s muffled voice comes through the car window.

Alfred frowns at her, and winds the window down quickly. “I’m looking for Edward.”

“He’s not here,” she says. “And _you_ definitely shouldn’t be here.” 

“Well where is he, Florence? I mean, I haven’t heard from him in a week and-“

“Jesus, he didn’t say anything to you?” Florence runs a hand through her hair, leaning back and sighing heavily.

Alfred shakes his head. “Say what? Why would he-“

“Look, Alfred, I’m going to need you to calm down. I’m going to run back into my house and grab my bag, and then you and I are going to go literally _anywhere else_ and talk, okay?” She says, glancing back at Edward’s house like she’s afraid Charles Drummond might burst out an any second, axe in hand. “Just wait here, alright?” 

Alfred raises his hands in frustration, before dropping them against the steering wheel, just barely missing the horn. “Fine,” he says, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping well, tormented by nightmares of Edward seriously injured, or worse, and he’s sure it shows on his face. If this is his only chance at getting answers he has to take it.

Florence nods quickly, before turning and jogging back to her house, right next door to Edward’s.

Alfred runs his hand through his hair, glancing back at the door and smacking his hands against the steering wheel again. He wants to scream, hit something, break down into tears, because Edward is _gone_ and nobody will tell him what the _hell_ is going on. But instead he just sits there, staring straight ahead until Florence hurries back over and slides into the passenger side.

“Okay, let’s go.” 

“Where?” Alfred asks without looking over. He’s hoping she’ll say they’re going to find Edward.

“To the beach,” she says instead, not quite meeting his eye. “Edward says you know somewhere quiet? Let’s go there.”

Alfred swallows, nodding quickly and turning on the engine.

“How did you know I was there?” Alfred asks after a few minutes of tense silence. 

“I looked out of my window, dumbass. You’re lucky Edward’s dad didn’t look out of his.”

Alfred nods, and the two of them settle back into a tense silence.

“You know where Edward is?” Alfred says after another minute or so. He glances over at her quickly.

Florence swallows and looks away, like there’s something incredibly interesting outside, even though they’re driving through empty countryside they’ve both seen a million times over. “Uh, yeah." 

“And you’ll tell me?”

“Look, Alfred, I think we should wait until you’re not driving, okay?” Florence says, and Alfred’s stomach drops. That doesn’t exactly spell ‘good news’.

“Okay,” he whispers.

They sit in silence for the rest of the drive, until Alfred pulls over into what could _almost_ be considered a car park, except for the fact that it’s basically just a patch of dust. 

He grabs a picnic blanket out of the boot of his car and leads Florence down the path to the beach he’s taken Edward to a million times, and he can’t shake the feeling that something is _very wrong_ , and it’s eating him up, and he wishes Florence would just fucking _tell him_.

She waits until they’re both sat down on the picnic blanket, her knees pulled up to her chest. It’s windier than usual, and waves are crashing loudly against the shore while the wind whips her hair back, and she looks so vulnerable, all of a sudden.

“He’s gone, Alfred,” she says, glancing over at him, pushing long blonde hair out of her face.

“Gone?” Alfred frowns, trying to swallow back the fear building in his chest. “Gone where?”

Florence chews on her lip before replying. “I can’t tell you.”

Alfred feels anger burn deep in his stomach, but he tamps it down when he sees the pleading look in her eyes. _Don’t shoot the messenger_ , he reminds himself.

“I promise he’s somewhere safe, though.”

“Why now?” Alfred asks. “Why did he just go without saying anything?” His voice sounds so hollow, he _feels_ hollow.

“I’m sorry, Alfred, I can’t tell you. It’s not my story to tell, but you have to understand he _needed_ to go.” 

“Is he coming back?” He already knows the answer to that question, even before Florence shakes her head at him. He nods and looks away, blinking back tears before they can fall.

The sound of the sea crashing against the beach fills Alfred’s ears, and he draws on the familiar sound to keep his breathing slow and even.

“Why won’t he talk to me? Did I do something? Did he leave because of me?” His voice cracks as he speaks in spite of himself.

Florence reaches over to grab his hand, squeezing it gently. “No, Alfred, _god_ , of course he didn’t!” she says. “He’s just… adjusting. I’m sure he’ll get in touch when things settle down.”

Alfred purses his lips. For some reason, he doesn’t believe her. If Edward was going to get in touch, surely he would have by now. 

Maybe he should be hiding his feelings better, because, after all, Edward wanted their relationship to stay secret, but something tells him Florence already knows. He feels a slight flare of resentment in his chest. Florence seems to know _everything_. He tamps the feeling down again, though. She’s clearly hurting too over Edward’s sudden departure, and _she_ got to talk to him at least.

“He’s gone,” Alfred repeats her words from earlier.

“Yeah,” Florence whispers, shuffling a little closer and resting her head on Alfred’s shoulder. His hand instinctively comes up to wrap around her waist, and he can smell the soft, flowery scent of her shampoo that reminds him of Mina. “He’s gone.”

 

* * *

 

Alfred’s sitting on the beach alone, staring out at the sea when Mina finds him. He’s holding a book, but it’s fairly clear from the vacant look in his eyes that he hasn’t been reading it. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” she says, sitting down beside him. Alfred doesn’t even acknowledge her.

It’s windy again, just like it was the day he came to this exact same spot with Florence, the first time Edward left. The sun is just beginning to set, painting the sky with pink and orange, but Alfred doesn’t really notice. He’s more focused on the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Edward’s leaving town,” she says, and sees Alfred flinch a little. “Mystery man, right?”

Alfred’s head jerks around to face her, his book falling from his hands. He’s going to be pissed about that later when he tries to shake the sand out from between the pages, but right now it doesn’t really register. “How did you know?”

“Well let’s see, your disappearance from the reunion coincided remarkably with Edward’s arrival, I bumped into him by your apartment after you got laid, and your bad moods seem to line up pretty much perfectly with his,” Mina says, nudging him gently with a small smile. “You’re not the most subtle of people, Alfred.”

Alfred sniffs, moving his book out of the way and drawing his knees up to his chest, fixing his eyes back on the horizon. “Guess not.”

“You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?” Mina asks gently, after a short pause.

Alfred sucks in a deep, shuddery breath. “I never stopped.”

“Does he know that?”

Alfred shrugs, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knees. “He’s leaving anyway.”

“Jesus, Alfred, not to be harsh, but could you pull your head out of your ass for two seconds?” Mina kicks him gently. “That man is practically _begging_ you to give him a reason to stick around.” 

Alfred blinks at her as he turns his head so he can look at her, his cheek resting on his knees. “He hates this town.” 

“But he _loves_ you, Alfred.” 

“He has a job in Scotland,” Alfred says, sitting up and shaking his head, turning back to face the ocean.

“Okay, so? There are other jobs like that. In fact, I have it on good authority that he’s found equally good job openings that he could pursue from right here.” Mina pokes Alfred’s shoulder to make sure he’s listening.

“I couldn’t make him stay here. He’s got too much trauma in this town.” Alfred says, his voice a dull monotone.

“Jesus, Alfred, then go to Scotland with him. Your PhD will be done within a month, and then you can leave this stupid fucking town.”

“But-“ 

Mina cuts him off. “Your parents will be fine without you, so don’t you dare bring them into this.”

Alfred chews on his lip. “What about you?”

Mina softens slightly. “Alfred, sweetie, I’ll be fine too. Besides, I’ve been thinking about leaving as well.”

“Does Florence have anything to do with that?” Alfred teases. 

Mina rolls her eyes at him. “Stop deflecting. We’re still talking about you here.”

Alfred groans and ducks his head to hide his face between his knees, but looks up when Mina gently touches his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to make the same mistake you made ten years ago,” she says gently.

“I didn’t make a mistake, Mina, he left-“ 

“And you stayed. Have you even told him that you got into Edinburgh? That you didn’t go because you didn’t want to chase him down?” She squeezes his shoulder, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “You _let_ him leave you behind.”

Alfred swallows, looking away from her and staring out at the ocean taking a few deep breaths in time with the waves.

“You have a _chance_ this time Alfred. Don’t let it slip through your fingers.” She presses a quick kiss to his cheek before standing up and brushing the sand off her skirt. “Think about it, okay? He’s leaving Florence’s tomorrow morning at 11.”

Alfred nods without looking back at her, watching out of the corner of his eye as she turns to leave, before hesitating and turning back.

“I almost forgot,” she says, tucking an envelope under Alfred’s book. “Florence gave this to me for you. It’s from Edward. It might help with your decision.”

Alfred waits until she leaves to look at it, and finds that it’s a letter, addressed to him at his parents’ house. There’s even a stamp on it – first class, Alfred notices – though it was clearly never sent. It’s bulky, too, at least a couple of pages. 

Curiosity gets the better of him, and before he can stop himself he’s opening the envelope to pull out the sheets of paper folded inside.

He scans it quickly, eyes tracing over Edward’s familiar, spiky, crabbed cursive. Edward always wrote like he was in a rush to get everything down as quickly as possible before the thoughts left his head.

Then Alfred notices the date at the top of the page.

_20 thAugust 2009_

The summer Edward disappeared all those years ago. He thinks back to his conversation with Edward, how he’d mentioned writing a letter that he never had the courage to send. 

Alfred swallows and begins to read.

 

* * *

 

_Monday 20 thAugust 2009_ 

_Dear Alfred,_

_I’ve written and rewritten this letter to you a thousand times over trying to find the right way to tell you why I left, and why I can’t come back. Now I’m afraid I’ve left you in the dark for months without word, and I suspect you probably hate me now, and wouldn’t want to read this letter, even if did pluck up the courage to send it. I’ve been so afraid of what you’d say if I called you, and as time passed the situation only got worse until I started to wonder if I should contact you at all. But then that hardly seems fair to you. None of this is fair._

_I’m not good with words like you are, but, in case this is the last you ever hear from me, if you decide you hate me too much to ever want to see me again, I’m going to do my very best to explain this to you as gently as I can._

_As you may well have already guessed, I left because of my dad. I’ll spare you the details of what happened between us, because I know it would upset you, and it might make you act recklessly. I’m sure you’ll understand without me explaining, however, the seriousness of what happened to drive me out of town so abruptly. All I want is for you to be safe, and to be happy, and to become the amazing man I know you’re destined to be. I also don’t want you to blame yourself. I know how your mind works, and I know you’ll think that, on some level, I left because of you. I want to reassure you that that most definitely is notthe case. _

_You have been my safe haven these past few years, Alfred, even in the darkest of times, and I will never know how to truly thank you for protecting me whenever you could. Please believe me when I say that leaving you so soon is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I wish I could have stayed a little longer, and driven to Cornwall with you like we planned, and spent the summer by your side, but it’s my turn to protect you, now, and that means I have to leave you behind._

_I know you won’t understand right now, Alfred, I wouldn’t expect you to, and I know I’ve hurt you by leaving. I wish there was another way._

_Florence told me she spoke to you a few weeks ago. She also told me you look like you haven’t been sleeping or eating much lately. Please, please take care of yourself. I hope you won’t be upset with Florence for not telling you where I am, or why I left; I asked her not to, for your sake, and, I suppose, for mine. I think it’s best that you don’t know what happened with my dad, and as for where I am… I think it would be best if we didn’t see each other anymore, for the time being at the very least. A clean break, if you will._

_I love you, Alfred, and I know I’ve never said that to you before, and I know that this is the worst possible time to say it, but it seems only fair that you know. I love the way you get a tiny crinkle in between your eyes when you’re reading, and the way you cry at everything, and the way you helped me through some of the worst years of my life. I love you too much to let any harm come to you._

_I love you so much that I have to let you go, and it’s killing me._

_You know, I never really liked Wilde’s plays, but I’ve finally tried The Picture of Dorian Gray, because I know how much you love it, and I have to admit it’s pretty good. There’s this quote that reminds me of you: “The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.” Perhaps someday we’ll be able to rewrite our own history, when some time has passed, and this hurt between us has been allowed to fade._

_I truly hope it’s possible, one day._

_I hate being away from you, and I hate knowing I’ve hurt you, that I’m still hurting you. I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that it’s for the best, even if it doesn’t feel like it now._

_I love you, and I hope you’ll be able to forgive me, if not now then one day in the future._

_Love,  
_ _Edward_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just gonna apologise now...
> 
> next time: actual?? resolution?? a happy??? ending??? 
> 
> shhh no spoilers
> 
> thank you so so much for reading, drop me a comment to let me know what you thought! <3<3<3


	7. im almost me again (he's almost you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right, here we are, facing the final chapter!
> 
> the song for this chapter is [almost (sweet music)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7uttm8Iurm5uK67Vr9G2Sp?si=gVnH4EqJTPKNXqxjcYmXVw) by hozier for those very lovely soulmate vibes
> 
> im not sure how much there is left to say, except.. let's go!

Alfred knocks on Florence’s door, once, twice, and then a third time.

He’s been up all night reading and rereading Edward’s letter, and he’s pretty sure the door in front of him is moving, or maybe that’s just him, but it’s 10:50 and he absolutely _needs_ to see Edward before he leaves, because, as it turns out, Mina was right, and he needs to confess as a matter of urgency before Edward walks out of his life again, possibly forever this time. So, this morning, when he’d finally dragged himself out of his letter induced trance, he’d downed about three litres of coffee and driven over as quickly as possible.

Florence’s mother opens the door, which momentarily throws Alfred, because he’d forgotten Florence didn’t actually live in this town and was just staying with her parents for a couple of weeks. 

“Uh, hi Mrs Kerr, I’m looking for Edward?” Alfred says, and he’s _definitely_ swaying slightly.

“Oh, you must be that boy he was talking about-“ Mrs Kerr begins, but is quickly cut off by Florence’s voice calling out from somewhere behind her.

“Alfred?” Florence appears at the door. “I’ve got this, mum,” she says, and her mum smiles and pats her on the shoulder before disappearing back into the house.

“Is Edward here?” Alfred asks again. 

“Oh, Alfred,” she says, like she doesn’t want to break the news, “you just missed him. He left early to get coffee.” Florence claps a hand over her mouth.

Alfred feels his heart sink down into his stomach. “Do you know where?” 

Florence frowns. “Uh, that café the two of you like so much.”

“Do you think I could still catch him?” 

Florence chews on her lip for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, uh, you go, I’ll text him and get him to wait!” She’s about to shove him out the door when she pauses for a moment and takes in the way he’s swaying slightly where he stands. “Actually, I’m not convinced you’re in a fit state to drive.”

“Well I can’t exactly power walk over there, can I?” Alfred huffs. 

Florence mulls over her options, before grabbing a set off keys off the counter by the door and dragging Alfred out. “I’ll drive. We can call him on the way.” 

Alfred shoots her a somewhat panicked look. 

“ _I’ll_ call him,” she corrects, bundling him into the passenger seat.

She barely even waits for him to do up his seatbelt before she pulls away, starting to fiddle with the car phone.

“There’s a bottle of water in the side door that’s not too old. Drink some, it might calm the shakes,” she says, before shushing him as she hits a call button and the phone starts ringing. 

Alfred obliges, sitting in silence and sipping at water that tastes like it’s been sat in a car just a little bit too long.

“ _Hey, Flo, miss me already_?” Edward answers after a couple of rings.

“Couldn’t get rid of you soon enough, asshole,” Florence bites back.

“ _You’re breaking my heart_.”

“Bite me,” she replies.

Alfred shoots her a pointed look, reminding her that this is, in fact, a matter of some urgency. She rolls her eyes, but turns her attention back to the task at hand.

“Tell me you’re still at the café,” she says, and Alfred braces himself for Edward’s answer. 

“ _Uh, yeah, I’m still waiting to order, why_?” Even through the muffled car speakers, Alfred can hear his confusion.

“You, uh, you left one of your jumpers at mine,” Florence shoots Alfred a panicked look, and he shrugs. “I’m on my way over to give it to you, wouldn’t want you to leave it behind.”

“ _Really? I could’ve sworn I packed everything_?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s that blue sweatshirt you wear all the time, the one with the torn cuff?” Florence ad-libs, shooting Alfred another panicked look.

“ _Oh, uh,_ ” Edward pauses for a moment before he continues,“ _you know, it’s actually Alfred’s jumper_.” Alfred sits bolt upright in his seat, staring at the car phone like he can somehow manifest Edward through it. “ _I stole it way back before I left, you know, and after everything that happened it feels kinda wrong still having it. Maybe you should just, uh, give it back to him_ ,” Edward says, and Alfred can picture him, shuffling his feet and ducking his head as he speaks.

“Look, I’m already on my way now, Edward,” Florence says, trying desperately to keep things on track. “Just hang tight, I’ll be there in five with your stupid jumper, and you can decide what to do with it then.” She shoots a wink in Alfred’s direction, but Alfred is too busy quietly freaking out to say anything. “I have to go, I’ll see you soon!” She cuts Edward off before he can say anything else, ending the call and slumping back in her seat.

“He has my jumper,” Alfred murmurs, still staring at the car phone like it will magically answer his questions. “He _still_ has my jumper.”

“Well duh. He’s been in love with you forever. Of course he still has your jumper,” Florence rolls her eyes without looking over, focusing on navigating the roundabout in front of her.

“He doesn’t hate me.”

“Jesus, Alfred, I don’t think he’s ever been able to even slightly resent you for anything.” 

Alfred sits back in his seat and stares at the road ahead of them as if he can will the car to move faster towards the café, towards Edward.

“Are you nervous?” Florence asks.

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” Alfred asks, eyes darting towards her as her words fill him with a slight sense of dread. Should he be nervous? 

“I mean, the café is pretty public, and, I mean, you know how Edward can be.”

Alfred curses under his breath, before shaking his head and taking a couple of deep breaths. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he says.

“Okay, well,” Florence says, pulling up outside the café. “Get crossing.”

He looks over and sees Edward through the window, still stood in a rather lengthy queue. “Right. Yeah.”

“You’ve got this, Alfred.” Florence reaches over to squeeze his hand gently.

Alfred nods to himself. “Yeah. I’ve got this.” 

He tries not to think about the fact that he probably looks like a total mess as he gets out of the car, and focuses instead on thinking about what he should say, running through it in his mind like he’s rehearsing a script.

It all goes out of the window when he steps into the café and Edward turns to look at him, his expression remaining carefully neutral.

“Alfred? What are you doing here?” Edward asks, stepping out of the queue to walk over to him. 

“I, uh, Florence dropped me off,” he says, and he immediately wants to kick himself. Edward’s lips tilt up in a smile, though, like he’s just figured out the ruse. “I think we need to talk.” 

“I think we do.” 

Alfred glances around the café. It’s packed, and he can definitely see more than one of their former classmates, whose attention has shifted over to the apparent show unfolding in front of them.

“If you want, we could go somewhere a little more private?” Alfred suggests.

Edward looks around and seems to take in the familiar faces, but he turns to Alfred and shakes his head. “I’m good right here.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it here,” Edward asserts, and Alfred feels his heart swell.

“Okay,” he swallows. “Well, the fact of the matter is, Edward, I’m in love with you, and I have been for a very long time, and I made the stupid mistake of letting you slip through my fingers ten years ago, and I’m not about to repeat that mistake now.” 

Edward’s face lights up in a smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but Alfred shushes him quickly.

“I’ve actually got a speech prepared, if you don’t mind,” he says. Edward rolls his eyes but gestures for him to continue.

“Edward, you have been a hero since you were 14, protecting your mum,” he swallows, “protecting  _me_ , and I love you for that, but it’s time to hang up your cape and make some selfish choices for once.” Alfred reaches out and gently strokes Edward’s cheek. “That’s me,” he whispers. “I’m the selfish choice.”

Edward chuckles, and wipes away a small tear that has escaped his eye.

“And I understand if you need time, if you want to take things slowly, but you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I’m not willing to wait another ten years for that to start.” Alfred shrugs slightly. “Sorry.”

“Are you done?” Edward asks, a stupidly large grin on his face.

Alfred huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m done.” 

“Okay, good.” Edward beams at him, before leaning in and kissing him right there in the middle of the café.

It’s short and sweet, which Alfred supposes is reasonable considering they’re still in public and people are trying to eat, but Alfred feels all the broken pieces of his heart fit back together into a whole.

When Edward pulls back, Alfred’s half-expecting people to applaud, like they do at the end of movies, but instead they just get a few slightly odd looks from strangers who don’t know the situation, and a single whoop from Florence’s car, which is still parked outside.

Edward chuckles and wraps his arms around Alfred’s waist, pulling him into a tight hug, swaying him slightly side to side, and Alfred lets his eyes fall shut as he relishes in the feeling of Edward’s heartbeat reverberating through his chest.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Alfred asks after a few moments, leaning back a little. “Maybe go somewhere we can talk?”

Edward’s hand ghosts across his cheek as he smiles softly at Alfred. “I think that’s a good idea,” he says, his other hand reaching out for Alfred’s and squeezing gently.

There’s a slightly awkward journey back with Florence to pick up Alfred’s car, which Alfred and Edward spend sat in the backseat, utterly wrapped up in each other and trying to ignore Florence’s rather frequent glances back at them in the rear-view mirror like she’s trying to record every detail so she can tell Mina everything later. Alfred’s a little relieved, actually, when they finally make it to his car and are given a little privacy, once Florence has deemed him fit to actually drive.

“Where d’you want to go?” Alfred drums his fingers on the steering wheel a little as he rolls down the road, away from Florence, and, more importantly, away from Edward’s father.

“The beach?” 

Alfred smiles and glances over at Edward, reaching out to catch his hand. “The beach it is.”

He holds Edward’s hand for the duration of the drive, which does make changing gear a little challenging, but he decides it’s worth it for the reminder that he can _do this now_. After all the shit they’ve been through, it’s like they’ve finally broken the cycle of hurting and leaving and hurting some more. Even just the feeling of Edward’s hand heavy in his is enough to ground him in this perfect moment. 

They eventually arrive at the beach, and Alfred grabs the blanket he always keeps stashed in his car boot for times like these. They walk, hand in hand, in silence, down to their favourite spot. _Their_ spot.

Alfred feels a slight twinge in his heart when he thinks about the last time they were here together. The day Edward left.

He tamps down the feeling and squeezes Edward’s hand, before letting go and spreading out the blanket, sitting down and patting the space next to him.

Edward sits down, and, like magnets drawn together, the two of them immediately fold into one another, legs draping over each other as Alfred settles his head on Edward’s shoulder. 

“Where do we go from here?” Edward asks, as he plays absent-mindedly with Alfred’s fingers. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap,” Alfred jokes. “I was up all night reading your letter, which was gorgeous, by the way.”

“Alfred, you-“ Edward goes to protest, before stopping dead. “My letter?” His expression goes blank for a moment, before he practically slaps his forehead with his free hand. “Florence,” he murmurs and Alfred chuckles gently. 

“If it helps, it was the final push I needed to grow a pair and come and talk to you,” Alfred twines his fingers together with Edward’s and squeezes.

Edward smiles, squeezing back. “Okay, but seriously, though. I mean, what are we doing? You know, I could stick around, find a job here-“ 

“No way.” Alfred cuts him off, sitting up and shaking his head. “No, you are not staying in this crappy, stupid town, where your even crazier, stupider dad still lives. And even if he wasn’t still around, you have too much history here.” Alfred presses a quick kiss onto Edward’s cheek. “You’re going back to Scotland, and your awesome job, and you’re not giving any of that up for me.”

“I’m not leaving you behind again,” Edward says, and his face looks so conflicted.

Alfred feels a small pit open up in his stomach. “About that,” he says. “Ten years ago… I got my grades for Edinburgh, but I chickened out and plumped for Bangor instead because I thought it would be easier.”

“Easier than facing me?” Edward whispers.

“At the time… I guess?” Alfred says. “I just… I’ve been giving you so much stick for leaving but, when push came to shove, I chose to stay here instead of following you out.” Alfred looks away, staring out at the sea instead of trying to make sense of Edward’s expression. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Edward gently turns Alfred back to face him. “What did we say about apologies? Call it even.”

Alfred huffs out a laugh and leans back against Edward’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay, even.”

“I’m still not leaving you behind, though,” Edward speaks again after a moment.

“You won’t be. Not for long, anyway.” Alfred turns to face Edward. 

“But your PhD-“ 

“Done in a month, and I only need to be here for my final panel and then I’m finished,” Alfred says.

“And after that?” Edward is eyeing him almost warily, like he’s afraid Alfred’s about to drop a bombshell about moving to Canada.

“Well, nothing’s set in stone, but I happen to know that St Andrews uni is very interested in my research. I could reach out and see if they’d like to have me on board…” Alfred trails off, eyes scanning over Edward’s face. 

“You… You want to come to Scotland?” Edward asks slowly.

“As long as you’ll be there. I mean, if you’ll have me,” Alfred trails off again, watching as Edward slowly processes.

“What?” Edward blinks at him, before shaking his head and bringing his hand up to Alfred’s cheek. “That’s everything I’ve wanted since I was 18. Of course I’ll have you. But-“

Alfred’s breath hitches in his throat as Edward’s hand falls away and he turns to look out at the sea for a second, before looking back at Alfred.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he says, and Alfred feels his entire body relax. “I mean, it’s a long way away from here, you know? And you’re not running from anything, I mean your family is _here_. And I don’t want you to change your life like that just for me, I mean what if-“

Alfred cuts him off by squeezing his hand. “Hey,” he murmurs, watching as Edward seems to re-center himself around Alfred again. “I’ve never been more sure about anything?”

Edward heaves out a deep breath, his lips settling back into an easy grin. “Okay. Yeah. You’re moving to Scotland.”

“I’m moving to Scotland.” Alfred grins, leaning his head back on Edward’s shoulder and staring back out at the sea.

They sit, for a few moments, in contented silence, interrupted only by the soft crashing of the waves, before a thought crosses Alfred’s mind, lips quirking up into a smile. 

“So, a little birdy told me you still have one of my jumpers,” he says, turning his head a little to prop his chin on Edward’s shoulder, and leaning in to press a quick kiss onto his neck. “Blue with a torn cuff?”

He can practically hear Edward’s wince when he speaks. “You heard that?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Alfred says. “I am surprised it fit you though. And when did you even steal it? That was my favourite jumper, I’ve been looking for it since-“ Alfred falters

“The last time we were here,” Edward finishes for him, squeezing his hand as though he’s trying to signal to Alfred that he’s okay. “Remember? We stayed to watch the sunset, but I was stupid and I hadn’t even brought a t-shirt to keep me warm, so you said I could borrow your sweatshirt, even though I’d probably stretch it out.”

“I remember,” Alfred murmurs, lifting up their joined hands and kissing Edward’s knuckles. “You took it with you?”

Edward hums. “I didn’t even realise I was still wearing it until I was already on the road. Might’ve left it behind if I had but… I don’t know, I’m glad I didn’t. It was nice having a piece of you left, you know.” 

Alfred swallows thickly, feeling the lasting ache of the past ten years still sitting heavy in his heart. “Do you ever think about that day? The last time we were here?” 

Edward chuckles, his thumb rubbing along the back of Alfred’s hand. “All the time.”

“Me too,” Alfred says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You know, that was the day I realized I was in love with you.”

Alfred sucks in a breath, and he feels Edward swallow thickly.

“I never said anything, but yeah.” Edward chews on his lip, before turning his head to look at Alfred, who sits upright so they can face each other properly. “You were reading, and I think you were grumpy because I’d flicked sand at you while you were still drying off, but you offered me the last sandwich without even looking up, and then you muttered to yourself about crappy translation, and I just… I knew I loved you, and that I was going to love you for a long time.”

Alfred gapes at him, apparently having forgotten how to string words together into a sentence.

Edward shakes his head. “I was too chicken to tell you then. Given how things turned out, I think maybe it was for the best.”

“Hey.” Alfred presses another kiss to Edward’s knuckles, drawing him gently out of his reverie. He thinks they’ve both dwelled more than enough on the past. “I love you, then and now.” 

Edward’s lips tilt up in a soft smile. “I love you too. Then and now,” he echoes with a cheesy grin, bringing a hand up to stroke over Alfred’s cheek.

He leans forwards to capture Alfred’s lips with his own, kissing him gently in front of the setting sun, like they really are part of the end of an old movie, hands clasped together and eyes fluttering closed as the sound of the ocean washes over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, there we go!
> 
> the happy ending, delivered as promised, finally!
> 
> a huge huge HUGE thanks to the ever wonderful Mia for all her support with getting this fic together, it literally wouldn't exist without her input!
> 
> and thank you so much to all of you for reading and commenting! let me know what you thought of the ending!
> 
> i have got something in the works at the moment that im hoping to get out sometime soonish, but it needs some very heavy polishing before it can go anywhere near ao3.
> 
> thank you again to all of you <3<3<3


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